Bumblebee Blood
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is searching for something that he lost long ago.  He enlists Severus' help, who agrees to help in between his attempts to stay alive.    What they discover will change their lives, forever.  About as AU as you can possibly get.
1. Chapter 1

Bumblebee Blood

_I did promise a nice Albus fic, and in this story he is back to his old fatherly self, looking after poor Severus as he faces the ugliest threat of all; detection from Lord Voldemort. But at the same time, Albus is searching for something-or maybe someone?-a secret that he has kept hidden for so long. And he decides to enlist Severus to help him._

_What they discover, however, will change both their lives. Forever._

_Dedicated to mentor figures everywhere; special shout-out to Mrs McLannahan for being mine, and letting me become myself, instead of some foul parallel self._

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><p><span>Chapter One:<span>

He took in a deep breath and raised his head so he was finally looking into the mirror with the enchanted glass. He waited for a long moment, watching as the mirror seemed to consider what it would reflect. Finally, it settled on an image—and it was just as painful as he had imagined. He was staring at himself, admittedly from a few years before, dressed in darker robes and standing in a shady room where there was very little light. His arms were held close to his body, creating a cradle, and lying half asleep within that cradle was a child. A baby, more precisely, of only a few hours old. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and wished he had not decided to look into the mirror that showed him his heart's desire.

"_I'm so sorry about your wife, sir. There was nothing we could do."_

"_She was not my wife." He answered abruptly. "The child?"_

"_The child survives, and is perfectly healthy. You have a son." The nurse reached into the cot and lifted the bundle of white blankets and the tiny innocent creature resting inside. "Do you want to hold him?"_

He should have said no. He should have simply turned away and told them that he never wanted to touch the child. But he was foolish—so terribly foolish—and he had agreed.

"_Is he your first, sir?" The nurse continued as she crossed to him and carefully gave the child to him, adjusting the position of his arms to make them more supportive. He was about to answer—when he was suddenly staring into the face of his child, and all words left him. The baby's cheeks were slightly flushed, but the skin was pale beneath that. Two perfectly shaped lips lay under the smallest nose he had ever seen, and there were the faintest wisps of hair upon his head. His eyes were round and wide with curiosity and wonder, stirred into awareness by the change of scenery, although he would not know what those emotions even were. The irises were a perfect shade of blue, and he knew where he had seen them before._

"_He certainly has your eyes, sir."_

_Her soft words prompted him to look up at her, "He's perfect." He whispered, and he realised that the baby truly was, without a doubt, a definition of perfect. He was wonderful, unique and completely sublime. He raised one finger and brushed it against the tiny clenched fist of his son, feeling the smoothness of the skin. The child was so fragile, so very vulnerable, and he never wanted to let him go, ever. He wanted to hold onto him and this one moment forever, he never wanted it to end. But it had to._

He had made the decision long before the child had been born, but when he had looked into the face, his conviction had been shaken. Suddenly he wondered whether he was making the right choice—but in the end he managed to convince himself. This child was innocent—he was the physicalisation of innocence, and he could not be dragged into a war that was not his fault. And he would be dragged in, that much was clear. So he would have had to let him go.

_He asked for some time alone with his son. He was not quite yet used to those words, no matter how many months he had had to understand what was about to change in his life. His son. He moved across the room and sat down upon a sofa, still cradling the child close to his chest. Those blue eyes were still fixed on his, unwavering. He adjusted the blankets slightly, "I'm sorry, child. I am so sorry, but you have to understand that I have no choice in this matter. I will not place your life at risk when you do not deserve it. If people were to find out about you, if they found out that I had a son—they would seek to destroy you. I have so many enemies, my dear child, and I wish there was something I could do to protect you. But the only way I can protect you, is to pretend that you have never existed. I can place you in the care of someone who will look after you and raise you as if you were their own. That will be your new family—and you will never know about me." He paused, still looking into those blue irises and wishing, not for the first time, that he was not so powerful and popular. "I love you, child. I want you to know that, because I loved you the moment I first saw you. And I will always love you, because you will always be a part of my life. Maybe, one day, when the war is over, I can seek you out and we can be reunited. I do not know how long that will be—but I will always be able to find you." He leant forward and pressed the gentlest of kisses to the baby's forehead. "I love you so much, and know that I would give my life in a single moment to protect you." He noted to himself that the baby did not seem to cry—just watched him. "You will be so brave. You have powerful wizard's blood flowing through your veins, my son." _

He had not named his child, because he did not believe he had that right. He was abandoning this child, leaving him alone, without a father or a mother, and although he knew it was the best thing to do, that did not mean it was right. It would never be right to do such a thing. So he had not named the child. He had simply sat, watching him, rocking him back and forth in his arms until the baby had finally fallen asleep.

_He was asleep now, and his father was simply enjoying the soft rhythm of his breathing and the warmth that the baby emanated against his chest. He swallowed, knowing that it was most likely time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pendant hanging from a silver chain. "This is for you, to keep." He tucked it into the blankets, careful not to wake the child. It was the side profile of a lion, true to his Gryffindor nature, with red pieces of crystal haphazardly combined together to create a mosaic effect. One piece was missing—he had kept that for himself. "You will always have someone to watch over you, wherever you are." He stood and gently rested his son in the cot, taking one of the external blankets from him and tucking it back into his robes. "I love you." He never wanted to stop saying it, that he loved him, that he wanted to keep him. He held his head up high as he turned and walked away—but could not resist that final look back._

"_I love you." He whispered._

He sighed and returned to the present. Everything had changed that day; the fated 1st January when he had had to sacrifice the one thing that could have made his life complete. He had walked away, forced the nurse to never admit to what she had seen, and never looked back. He did not know what had happened to the child, he did not know where he had ended up, he did not know if he was even still alive. Something in his heart told that his child was still out there, somewhere, waiting for him.

He turned to his desk and pulled open the top drawer. Beneath the magazines that detailed knitting patterns and how to transfigure goblets into toads, there was a tiny box that seemed so innocuous amongst the other things in his room, pretty things. He picked out the box and lifted the lid—the interior had been magically altered so it was much larger than the outside, so he could hide any number of things there. The piece of splintered red crystal, for example. He had picked it up and held it in the palm of his hands so many times that the once jagged edges were now smooth. He would hold it between his index finger and thumb and hold it up to the light, seeing the glint and reflection. Envelopes—so many envelopes—some that were slightly worn and yellowed with time and age, others that were relatively knew.

And the blanket. A small, white blanket that he kept clean by enchanting it. He had preserved it in near perfect condition. He pulled it from the box and held it close to his chest, breathing in the scent of—well, he supposed, the scent of his son. The few reminders of a child that meant so much to him, the child he had never seen.

His eyes were hot. He chewed his bottom lip. It was the dreams that were the worst. Wondering what this child may have become, what they might have achieved. The fantasies of moments they could have shared—his first words, his first steps, all the hugs that they had exchanged, all the moments when he had seen his son laugh. His first day at Hogwarts School, being Sorted. When his mind was feeling particularly cruel, it would conjure pictures of what his son would look like—his eyes, but his mother's hair and features—and he would hear the damning whisper in his ear, what it just might have sounded like when his son had called him _father_. That was when his heart broke the most—when he was forced to picture what his child would have been like.

He had wanted children, he had wanted a family, he really did—but this had just been an accident. It had been a night of desperation and want and fear that had led to something so beautiful, so perfect, and yet so terrible too. He had had no choice. That was what he constantly repeated to himself.

He folded the blanket and placed it back into the box. He laid the letters on top and the piece of the broken pendant, as well as the memories and the remnants of his shattered heart. The part of his soul that he had sacrificed and given to his son, so many years ago. He put the lid back on, locked the box, and placed it back into his drawer.

He glanced back toward the mirror, and saw himself again, with the child in his arms. There, he was rocking the child like he had done, singing a soft lullaby under his breath, and in that reality, he would not have to leave. He would not have to give up the one thing that could have made his life complete. The one thing he could have cherished, beyond everything else. In that reality, he would have been able to keep his most precious possession.

But that was just a dream. He put the cloth back over the mirror and resolved that, one day, he would dispose of it completely. Just like its parent, the smaller Mirror of Erised was nothing but trouble. He closed his eyes and willed the tears to stop, willed his heart to cease weeping, willed his mind to stop making those pictures so vivid.

A knocking sound interrupted his moment of total introspection. "Albus, I must speak with you—Severus is being totally unreasonable once again!"

Albus Dumbledore opened his eyes, plastered a smile onto his face, and moved to unlock the door.

Minerva McGonagall swept into the room, having already started speaking before Albus had even fully opened the door to her. Her normally impeccable bun was slightly out of place with several hairs descending down the sides of her lined face. She pulled her emerald robes tighter around herself, glancing at Albus, "He is being stupid, once again, Severus, you cannot expel a student just for pure curiosity!"

"I think you will find, Minerva, that the….brat…looked into my Penseive and violated my most secret memories!" Severus Snape's voice was trembling with barely restrained anger and, to Albus' practised ear, hurt. "I want him _out_!"

"Just because Mr. Potter saw some of your memories? You are blinded by your fixation with him being just like his father—which he is not!" Minerva shouted back, clearly slightly tired and incredibly irritated. Albus watched them, bemused, two of his closest friends…

"Just take his side, Minerva, that's fine, because you always take the side of the Gryffindors!" Severus folded his arms into either side of his black cloak and scowled blackly at Minerva, his black hair framing his face and slightly windswept, adding to the angry countenance he was wearing.

"I seem to remember I took _your_ side when discussing the event in question!" Minerva shouted back—and Albus finally decided to intervene. "Minerva, Severus. If you would not mind, I can hardly think with your heated discussion. Would someone like to explain exactly what has happened here?"

Minerva looked set to do just that, but Severus beat her to it. "Potter looked into my Penseive during the Occlumency lesson this evening."

"That was no reason to throw a jar of cockroaches at his head, Severus!" Minerva snapped, and Albus straightened his back. "Severus, you know I do not tolerate violence of any kind against the students…"

"I knew you would be like this!" Severus bellowed back at Dumbledore. "You and your precious Potter!" With that censure, Severus whirled on his heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him. The portraits on the walls quivered with the impact and uttered their own opinions about the volatile Potions Master, which Dumbledore quelled with a raise of his hand. He turned to look at Minerva, who was watching the door. "Make sure Mr. Potter does not repeat what he has seen, Minerva." He murmured quietly, and she glanced at him. "I am sorry, Albus. He just…pressed my buttons…"

"He was simply being Severus, something we should be thankful for. He is under much stress at the moment, Minnie, as you know well." He resorted to using her affectionate nickname to calm her down, and she nodded. "I know. I know. I just think, sometimes, when it comes to Mr. Potter, he does…" She trailed off and looked away. Albus reached and touched her arm gently, "You are allowed to be protective of your students—you know Severus would be the same if it were a Slytherin in question. Come, let me walk with you to your office, and then I will venture into the dungeons to find Severus." He held the door open for her, and as they walked down the spiral staircase, he paused. "I suppose this means he will not be doing the Occlumency lessons any further, then?"

Minerva smiled, just slightly. "He said something in that vein, yes. Along with what he would do to Mr. Potter if he ever saw him again-I believe it involved disembowelling."

"I thought this may be the case, which is problematic. I must do what I can to convince him. Good night, Minerva, see you in the morning." He left her at her office and continued down the stairs, into the dungeon, wincing slightly at the darkness and coldness that lingered in the underground corridors. He sped up, drawing to a halt outside the black door that led into Severus' office. He listened by the frame—

"Insolent, annoying, arrogant little brat…"

He smiled despite himself and tried the door handle, which turned easily. The wards that Severus used to protect his office never could withstand the Headmaster; that was one of his privileges. He entered the office, eyes falling on his younger friend, who was sat at his potions workbench, scrubbing at a particularly persistent stain that had caught his attention with a cloth. "Hello, Severus."

Severus did not look at him. "We are not speaking." Albus smiled at the words and how Severus was cleaning his desk; it was something Albus also did on a regular basis when he needed stress relief.

In that particular moment, Albus Dumbledore was probably the only person who would be allowed into Severus' office when Severus was this angry—and also the only person alive who would be able to come slightly nearer and then say, "Don't you think you are overreacting just a tiny…"

"OVERREACTING?" Severus leapt to his feet and positively glared at Dumbledore. "He violated my memories and saw the moment when his blessed father suspended me in the air and proceeded to undress me in front of most of the student body! How _dare _you suggest I am _overreacting_!" Rage and fury sparked from his very being, and the fact his fists were clenched and his whole body was shaking had not escaped Albus. "Severus…" He tried to sooth, but Severus was not in a mood to listen. "Get out, Headmaster." He said, turning away.

"You really believe I would do such a thing? Forgive me, I did not mean to insult you by suggesting that what has happened is unimportant—but Severus, Harry will never reveal what he saw, and I doubt he was particularly pleased—he saw his father…"

"Being a cruel and vindictive bully to someone they mutually dislike." Severus' voice was pure venom. "I am sure he is delighted." He sat back down at his desk, picking up the cloth and starting to terrorise the stain once more.

Although he was making it clear that the conversation was finished, Albus was not so sure. He was concerned. Severus was often volatile and easily upset—but he tended to stew in silence rather than this sort of rage, which was wearing his emotions on his sleeve. Yes, he was more willing to open up to the Headmaster, who had seen him in every state imaginable—but this was different. "What is wrong, Severus?"

Severus hesitated before replying, "He looked into my Penseive!"

"No. That is not the true matter here. I can hear that. Severus. Look at me, my boy, please." He came closer, watching as Severus continued to clean the desk, even though the stain was now long gone. "Why are you using your left hand?" He asked suddenly.

Severus stopped cleaning and was very quiet. Albus waited for an answer. Something was very wrong here. "What is it?"

Severus looked in his direction and Albus saw something that chilled him to his very core. Fear. His friend was terribly afraid. Instantly he felt some sort of need to wrap Severus in his arms and tell him that everything would be all right—because he had never seen such a expression in Severus' eyes, not even on the night that Lord Voldemort had returned, a year before. He crossed to him and sat on the bench next to the desk, "Tell me."

"He has…marked…me." Severus murmured, as if the words were dirty and as if the admission was even more so.

Slightly confused to Severus' statement, Albus raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

As if irritated by Albus' ignorance, Severus pulled back his right sleeve and thrust his wrist in Albus' face. "See!"

Albus looked at the bloodied red mark that was carved into Severus' wrist. "Ah. Thurisaz, am I correct?" He reached out one finger and traced the mark gently, "What does this mean?"

"It means that he believes he has a traitor in his camp, and has marked those whom he suspects." Severus' voice was shaking slightly beneath the facade of neutrality. "It appeared tonight, after dinner."

"Severus. You must be careful." Albus wrapped his fingers over Severus' wrist and looked into his eyes, "I do not wish to lose you, my dear boy."

"You want me to do the Occlumency lessons with Potter, don't you?" Severus said after a moment.

"I cannot ask anyone else…"

Severus drew his hand away from Albus and stood, turning his back. "Is this just another way to _torment_ me, Dumbledore?" He didn't see the wince of hurt from the Headmaster—using Albus' surname was a tactic so rarely employed to upset the older wisdom and convey just how hurt Severus was.

"Severus!" Albus admonished, "I would never intentionally hurt you, and you know that well! Please, consider what you just said. I need you to teach Harry Occlumency because there is no one else better suited—I do not have the time—and you are more talented at it than I! You are incredibly gifted at Occlumency, and I worry that if you do not teach Harry then your position will be put at risk!"

Severus turned and looked at him. "And you think shameless flattery will change my mind?"

Albus smiled, "I'm hoping so, yes."

Severus folded his arms bitterly, "I will think about it."

Albus beamed this time, "Thank you, my boy." He closed the gap between them, "What about Voldemort? How will you convince him of your loyalty?"

"I have yet to know why he suspects me. I am sure he will inform me, in the near future. Probably the next time he summons me." Severus' countenance darkened. "I fear he is testing me."

"And you do not know how to best answer his questions?"

"Indeed."

Albus felt pained, "I wish I knew how to help you, my dear boy. I really do. But I cannot." He peered over his half moon spectacles at the younger man. "Promise me that you will be careful."

"I promise, Headmaster."

"You should get some rest. Good night, Severus, dear."

"Good night, Headmaster."


	2. Chapter 2

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Thank you, one and all, for the magnificent reaction to the first chapter of Bumblebee Blood. Some of you have touched upon the real reason for this story — but what else did you expect from SS19? As for Severus…and your fears…I solemnly swear that I will not kill Severus in this story. He will be alive, up until the final chapter. Does that reassure you? I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter as much as the last! ~ SS19._

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><p><strong>Chapter Two:<strong>

It was Sunday afternoon. The weather was brilliant and bright, the sun streaming down on the grounds of Hogwarts and reflecting off the stone of the castle, transforming it into a gleaming fortress. The sky was clear blue, and the air was warm. It was comfortable enough. He was leaning against the trunk of the weeping willow that overshadowed the river, eyes closed. His book was resting on his chest, one hand still tucked amongst the ancient pages, marking his place with his thumb. The other was playing with the grass that was resting against his finger tips. He could hear the trickling of the small waterfall only a few metres away, and the buzzing of the insects that were busily going about their duty, oblivious to his presence in their little worlds. He was focusing on his breathing, feeling it enter his chest, linger for a few moments, and then release, feeling at peace. He shifted position, turning his head to one side — there was a sound that he did not recognise. Footsteps. He stayed in the pretence of being asleep, listening as the footsteps approached, faltered and then hesitated altogether. A minute when he knew his visitor was trying to work out if he was asleep, and clearly then decided that he was. Careful not to come too close and thus disturb the proverbial sleeping dragon — which he could be if woken without good reason or due intent — the footsteps padded toward him, something was placed on the ground next to him, and then those steps started to recede. He finally decided to speak up, "You can stay."

"Severus! I thought you were asleep! Did I wake you?"

Severus opened his eyes and glanced at the Headmaster, who was stood a few metres away, expression a mixture of embarrassment and concern. "No. I was simply enjoying the moment. Please, sit." He gestured to the ground, putting his book down and turning his attention to whatever it was Albus had brought. It was a small box, "Is this cake?"

"How did you guess?" Albus replied with a smile as he forced his slightly creaking limbs to sit cross-legged upon the grass. "You missed my invite to Sunday tea." He indicated the box, "So I thought I would take Sunday tea to you. It did take me some time to find you."

Pulling the lid off the blue box, Severus looked at him, "This is the first place you looked, is it not?" His eyes were knowing, and Albus knew he would not be able to lie to him.

"I know you too well, Severus. I know this is your favourite spot in the whole of the Hogwarts grounds." Albus looked around the clearing, near to the boundaries of the Forbidden Forest. The trees around the area were thick and almost pressing, which was enough to turn away the most curious of student, and yet inside there was this place where the trees parted and the river flowed and it could be incredibly beautiful. Severus had discovered it when he had been a student, and since then, it had become his chosen place for reflection and general relaxation. Albus had sought him out many a time here, in various emotional states, although most of the time when he was here, he seemed content. He especially liked the weeping willow, against which he was sat now.

"Ah, chocolate cake. You remembered, then." Severus appraised, still investigating Albus' gift. "I am surprised it took you this long, Headmaster, to realise that I like chocolate cake."

"It seems so unlikely, Severus. We have tried nearly every desert imaginable in my office, and yet, I never thought to offer you chocolate cake — even if it does come from perhaps the most ingenious cake maker in Hogsmeade." Albus smiled at his younger friend, "I even brought a fork."

"So I see." There was a moment of comfortable silence as Severus took a forkful of the cake and indulged himself in the mouthful, staring out at the river. Once he had swallowed enough of the cake to be able to talk once more, without spraying Albus with a shower of crumbs, "I am sorry that I missed your invitation."

"I sent it to you this morning. I assume this means you have been out here for much of the day? Is there any particular reason for this self-reflection?" Albus prompted, picking at the grass next to his foot, trying not to seem too curious in why Severus had removed himself from the castle.

"I was here last night, too, in fact." Severus answered, fidgeting with his fork, "I needed some time to think. I find that is easiest to do when I cannot be disturbed." He continued to eat his cake, savouring the taste, before returning his gaze to the Headmaster, "I was contemplating my next move in terms of the Dark Lord."

Albus nodded, "I assumed as much. You just have to pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary. He will not want you quivering with fear, he admires you because you are stronger than that. But I understand your concern, Severus, dear. Do you think it is a serious threat?"

It took a while for Severus to answer. He had returned to staring out across the river, eyes focused on a point that was far beyond Albus' world. "One does not know until they have seen the Dark Lord. I cannot judge his mood from afar. And yet, he has not Summoned me for nearly two weeks. Something is amiss here." He shook his head, "I do not know what." He exhaled slowly, finishing his cake and putting the box back down on the grass, "Thank you for the cake, Headmaster."

Albus smiled, "You are very welcome. I am glad you enjoyed it." He fiddled with his robe for a moment, and Severus picked up the nervous, almost anxious behaviour. "Headmaster? Is something the matter?"

Albus glanced at him, "Pardon?"

"You seem distracted, Headmaster. I know you well enough to make such an accusation — with evidence including how you have come all this way to find me, when you know that I often come here to be alone, and that you are picking at your robes as you do when you are uncomfortable — I seem to remember the last time being when you were attempting to ask me to teach Occlumency to Potter." His voice softened slightly, "What is it, Albus?"

Albus looked at him with a sad smile, "You know me as well as I know you. What a pair we make. You are correct. I do have something on my mind, and I did not seek you out simply to give you some chocolate cake. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Severus straightened, sensing that the Headmaster was distressed about something, "Go on."

"But I do not wish to burden you any further — you are already dealing with enough problems of you own, and I worry about…"

"Headmaster!" Severus interrupted, "When has that ever stopped me ranting to you? And even if I have pretended that I do not wish to take up any more of your time, you have insisted that I speak to you. I use the same sentiment now. It would probably do me good to no longer dwell on whether or not the Dark Lord believes I am disloyal. I am not one for offering advice, but I shall attempt to do so to return the favour to you."

"You truly are a good person, Severus. I wish that I was the same…I am concerned that your opinion of me will plummet if I am to tell you my story." Albus answered, and his tone was dark.

"I doubt anything besides you moving Potter into Slytherin would make my opinion of you any lower, Headmaster." Severus answered with a wry smile, "Considering you manipulate me into being a disloyal Death-Eater and blackmail me emotionally into sitting with Black and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix once a fortnight…" He was being light-hearted, but the expression of pure dejection on his Headmaster's face made him trail off involuntarily, "You are starting to concern me, Albus. What is the matter?"

Albus raised his head. "I have a son."

Of all the things Severus had been expecting him to say, that was one of the least likely. He knew, for a moment, his mouth hung open slightly in a very unappealing expression as he tried to process what the Headmaster had just said. "…A…son?"

Albus nodded, turning his face away from Severus.

"Recently? Congratulations." Severus thought that was probably the customary response to such a thing, "I have heard that having a child is a very precious moment…" To his horror, his soft words seemed to have caused tears to well in Albus' eyes — and he was not sure how to react to that, "…Albus?"

Albus shook himself, "Sorry, my boy. It is difficult to hear it said out loud. Not recently, no. It was gone thirty years ago now. When he was born." He looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap. "I abandoned him." His voice had the tiniest of trembles in the syllables, "I left him when he was nothing more than a few hours old."

Severus blinked. This was hard to take in — and also hard for him to comprehend. "You had a son, whom you abandoned?"

"Allow me at least to tell you the whole story, before you judge me, Severus, as I know you will do. As you are right to do, for what I have done is an unforgivable sin. Will you let me tell you what happened?"

Severus nodded, "Of course." Albus had always been one to listen to him, so he owed that as a favour. He was also, despite himself, intrigued. Albus seemed to be above such things as having children — and for him to admit that he had a son, albeit one he did not seem to know…

"It was just after Voldemort's rise to power, in the late nineteen fifties. He had started to become much more violent in his methods, and we were facing great losses on our side. He was gathering followers, and attacking those I cared about. I lost so many friends, allies…desperation and devastation became my shadows as I tried again and again to defeat him, and yet, nothing I could do seemed to even leave its mark on him." Albus shifted position, shaking his head, "I withdrew from the battle to lick my wounds and try to recover from what was happening to me. I became nothing more than a shadow myself — people hardly saw me, and when they did, they saw not a leader. I was trying, but the despair was starting to sink in, like a poison. And as I became less powerful, Voldemort grew stronger." He stood, walking away from Severus, near the river bank. "We duelled. Tom and I. Just us. I defeated him, in that duel, but I did not destroy him. He fled, wounded, but nowhere near dead. I too was injured — but I returned to Hogwarts and the rest of the world triumphant. Tom swore revenge on me, stating that he would find some way to 'get even' before the end." He paused, "And then into my life came Morgan. To this day, I am not sure what she really did. She was just a person, someone I grew attached to, someone who seemed to understand the position I was in. She came to the castle often, and I grew…fond…of her. She did of me, too, and we would spend many nights simply talking. I was weak, Severus, and that was my only excuse for being so foolish. I was…I suppose others would call it depressed. The world was dark to me, Severus, and I desperately needed some light. With Morgan, one thing led to another and…" He trailed off, leaving his meaning clear.

"She came back to me, a month later, to tell me the news. She was carrying a child. It could only be mine. And she wanted to know what I wanted to do." He swallowed, suddenly looking so many times his age. "I wanted a family, Severus. Sometimes, I still do. But I knew it was not to be — so I asked her to hide. To take the child away, and go somewhere that she would be safe. I imagined that I would never hear from her again." He turned back to face Severus, his eyes sparkling with tears that were unshed. "But she wrote me a letter, seven months later. She was ill. Very ill. Carrying the child had weakened her, and she called me to her side, one last time. When I arrived, she was so very weak, Severus. But she wanted me to be there, because it was my child, and she knew that I had some unconscious attachment to the child, because that was the only way it could be. I stayed with her through her final weeks, trying to help her, knowing it would do nothing, calling the medi-witch when the child decided that it was his time." He looked down at his hands, "She died during childbirth. I think I expected it, in the end. But the child survived. My child. My son, in fact." He turned away from Severus so that the other could not see the torment in his face, "I held him, Severus. He was so small, so very tiny, so very vulnerable. He needed to be protected, that, I knew. And in that moment, when I looked into his eyes, I thought that it could work. I could protect him. I was the most powerful wizard of all time, surely I could protect him? But it was not to be. Tom had sworn his revenge, and if word was to get out that I had a child…I knew that child would become a weapon. So I left him with the medi-witch, and disappeared into the night. She doesn't remember I was there…she would only remember this child. And I walked away from him."

Severus sat still, waiting to see if the Headmaster was going to continue his story, or whether it was finished. "You did the right thing." He said finally, "You are correct. The Dark Lord would have stopped at nothing to take that child from you."

"That is what I tried to convince myself, Severus, I tried! I told myself that it was the right thing to do. He was innocent, so very innocent. If he was elsewhere, Tom would never be able to harm him. Yet. I still believe it was unforgivable." Albus sat down heavily, raising his hand and dabbing at his face with his sleeve, seeming surprised that he had shed some of the tears that had gathered in his eyes.

Severus leant forward, "So why is this important now, Headmaster? I understand that it is something that has burdened you, but surely…surely now is not the time to be thinking about such things?"

"I agree. I am heavily involved in the war, and somehow, I must force my mind to be clear. I cannot afford to be distracted. But…I have been considering mortality, recently, Severus. I am not immortal, and I am no longer young. I believe that…perhaps…my role in this war is coming to an end." He raised a hand, "Do not interrupt me, Severus, because you cannot deny the passage of Time or the Ageing of the human body, mind and soul. I know the idea would frighten many of you, but I am not immune to Fate. I have decided that…I want to find him. I want to find him, so I can look into his eyes. I remember his eyes more than anything, Severus, in that one memory I have of him. I remember that they were just like mine. I want to find him. I want to be able to hug him, just once." Albus raised his eyes to Severus', "Will you help me?"

Severus stared at him, "Me?"

"I do not think I can trust another — you are the only one who knows that I have a son, Severus. But I cannot continue to pretend that he does not exist. I believe he has been placed in the Muggle world, because that was what I instructed on the parchment left with the boy. I wanted him to stay out of sight. You must know how someone could track down such a child?"

"Albus — he could be anywhere in the world! You would have to find the medi-witch, find out which orphanage he was placed in — there are thousands of families who may have taken such a child in!" Severus exclaimed, almost incredulous, "It is the same as looking for a needle in a haystack!" He saw something dim in Albus' eyes, "I'm sorry."

"Oh." Albus answered. "I thought it would be as such." He inhaled deeply, "In that case, I kindly ask that you discard what I have said. I must remember that you are caught up in your own thoughts and your own dilemmas, Severus. Please do not think I do not appreciate that. I needed someone to talk to — and you were the first person that I thought of. I thought, perhaps, you would not judge me too harshly."

"Albus. You did the right thing. Had I been in your position, I would have done the same. No child deserves to be brought into a world like that. But I do not believe it will be as simple to find him as you are hoping." He reached out and touched the Headmaster's elbow, "I understand the sentiment. Try, by all means. But you are right that you also have things to be concerned about, Headmaster. You need to focus on the war. We need you." He left the sentence unsaid that would prove he had some sort of emotional dependency upon the Headmaster, and instead just tried to smile in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

Albus nodded, "You are right. Thank you, Severus, I feel better for simply having spoken to you. And now, I think I will leave you read your book. I do not wish to take up too much of your weekend, after all." He pushed himself to his feet, "I take it the cake was to your liking?"

"It was indeed, Headmaster." Severus picked up his book, "I shall see you at dinner."

Albus walked away, leaving Severus staring at the pages of his book. But the words were not going in. His mind had wandered. Was it possible to find the medi-witch that Albus spoke of? Possibly, if he looked through the records, found those that would have been near to the area at the time…then he could ask if she had ever been left to deal with a child she did not recognise…he sat up straight. Surely that was possible.

"Damn it, Snape." He whispered. He should leave well alone. This was not his life, after all. This was between Albus and his son. But still…if he were in this situation, Albus would move mountains for him.

He stood, gathered his books and other things, and headed for the castle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Ah, I love this little story so much! It's one of my favourites *happy face*. I am so glad everyone else is enjoying it as much as I am enjoying writing it! I did think Severus would probably like something as simple as chocolate cake — he seems the type. Death by Chocolate, maybe?_

_Anyway, on with the third chapter, in which we see just what a wonderful person Severus is and we start to see what it means to be Marked as a traitor — but I stand by my promise in the earlier chapter._

_I do want to remind everyone that this is AU, and although it runs alongside canon in some respects…Voldemort isn't quite so subtle and silent as he was in the Order of the Phoenix. No. He likes to attack things._

_Namely the Ministry of Magic…_

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three:<strong>

Severus Snape was walking along the corridor leading to the second floor staircase, robes billowing out behind him, face set in a scowl. He had not slept well last night, and thus was feeling grumpy this morning. He had already taken one hundred points from Gryffindor — in less than one hour, which was perhaps a record for him considering they were not from Harry Potter and his miserable friends — and students and staff alike were keeping out of his way. They cowered in the corridor when he happened to walk past, as he started up the stairs, thoughts distracted and misplaced. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He hated the gift that his mother had apparently bequeathed to him — the gift of being incredibly perceptive, for he would never class it as 'Sight' or Merlin forbid, the 'Inner Eye' — as it did tend to keep him awake at night as he contemplated what may be happening in the world around him. Things that were, generally, out of his control. He stepped off the staircase and stopped striding when he was in front of the two gargoyles that regulated entrance to the Headmaster's office. "Acid pop." He announced, and the gargoyles accepted the password and sprang away to either side. He opened the door, pausing at the top of the spiral staircase to knock on the door, three sharp raps that the Headmaster would know.

"Come in, Severus."

Albus was sat behind his desk, reading something to do with knitting and transfiguration, but he put the magazine down and smiled genially at Severus, "Good morning, my boy. How are we, this fine day?"

Severus looked across at him, "They deserved it." He said without preamble.

Albus knew the topic immediately, "I dare say. Minerva, on the other hand, does not agree. She has been by this morning, demanding to know why Slytherin have, once again, overtaken her house. I have managed to calm her down." He stood, "Have a seat. Can I interest you in a cup of tea? A biscuit perhaps?"

Severus settled himself in one of the chairs opposite the desk, shaking his head to the offer, "No thank you, I had breakfast a few hours ago."

"So, how can I help, my dear boy? Is there something bothering you?" Albus asked, seating himself once more and leaning forward, blue eyes examining Severus, curious as to the boy's appearance in his office at eleven o' clock in the morning.

"I have a contact at St. Mungo's." Severus said softly. "I asked them for some help. They helped me to compile this list." He pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket, and handed it to Albus. Albus read it, seeing a list of names and not quite fathoming. Severus raised his head, "It's a list of the medi-witches who were also doing midwifery at the end of the nineteen-fifties, and the counties they were primarily working in. I thought, perhaps, a name might ring a bell to you, or you could at least do some initial enquiries. About your son, I mean."

Albus stared at the list, suddenly speechless. He swallowed and looked across the desk at Severus, "You did this?"

"I thought I was too quick to dismiss what you asked me to help with." Severus' tone had turned apologetic, "I understand how important this is to you, and then I remembered Lucy at St. Mungo's, who owed me a couple of favours. We put the list together last night, it's probably no help, but I thought it was a start. I know you said that you did not remember her name, but I thought that you might be able to write some letters and find out if any of them knew of a child that was passed into the Muggle world." He rested his hands on the desk and pointed to the list, "I really do hope it helps. Whoever the boy is…you need to find him. They need to know the truth about who they are."

Albus suddenly grasped one of Severus' hands in his, "You truly are a wonderful person, Severus Snape." His voice was trembling slightly, and his eyes sparkled. "I cannot believe you would do this for me…"

Severus smiled, "I assumed you would do the same for me if our positions were reversed. As I say. Lucy owed me some favours."

Albus clenched his fingers, "Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me." He murmured, and Severus tightened his own grip, "I hope you find him. I really do."

"I do not deserve you." Albus answered.

"Well, I am glad that thought has finally hit you, Headmaster." Severus replied, words tainted with sarcastic humour.

There was a sudden explosive noise from the fireplace, causing both Severus and Albus to look toward it in alarm. Alastor Moody's face appeared in the flames, "Albus!"

Albus let go of Severus' hands and moved nearer to the fire, "Here, Alastor. What is the problem?"

"Voldemort has set about attacking the Ministry. We have stopped him, just, but there are casualties."

Albus glanced behind him at Severus, who had come closer to the fireplace — yet his face was suddenly very pale and Albus saw his hand go to his left arm, almost warily.

"How many?"

"Several Ministry officials — we got one Death-Eater, but he doesn't seem to be part of the Inner Circle." Alastor coughed, "Is Snape there?"

Severus stepped forward, "I knew nothing about this." He said, and Albus could detect the lingering unease in those syllables. "What was he trying to get?"

"We don't know. It seemed unprovoked." Alastor paused, as if listening to someone else, "I have to go. Albus, are you going to come and help us tidy this up?"

"I can leave that, I am sure, in your capable hands, Alastor. I imagine I shall have to speak with the Minister before long. Be careful." He warned the younger Auror friend, before Alastor withdrew and Albus sat back against the floor, looking at Severus. "You did not know about this?"

Severus shook his head, "No. I did not know anything about it." His expression was troubled as he lowered himself into a chair and, in a rare moment of vulnerability, buried his head in his hands. "He suspects me." His syllables were muffled by his palms, but Albus still heard. "No, you see, this is good. This means he will think the spy is elsewhere, surely? If it was information fed to the Order…"

Severus' head shot up, "He would never feed anything like that to someone he believed was a spy. Granted, this works in my favour for the moment — but he still must think I am a threat for him not to include me in something as important as the Ministry of Magic…" He massaged his forehead with his fingers, "This is falling apart where we stand."

Albus crossed to him and sat on the footstool near to the chair, reaching out and pulling Severus' hands back from him face, "Do not think like this. You need to believe he trusts you — Severus, you have done nothing to make him believe otherwise!"

Severus looked at him for a long moment before answering, "He does not always need a reason. He just…knows…these things."

"Well, I just know things too, and I know that you are still held in some sort of favour. I believe that because you would not be here now if he suspected you to be a traitor. He had marked you, but I believe that is just to threaten you, to test your resolve. You need to stay strong on this, my boy." He smiled lopsidedly at Severus, "Trust me."

"Trust you, Headmaster?" He paused, watching those blue eyes. "Implicitly."

"Good. Do you want to — " Albus broke off when Severus suddenly recoiled, one hand suddenly covering his Dark Mark.

"In the middle of the day?" Albus prompted, as Severus fought the nausea that was associated with a Summons and raised his head. "I'm scared." He murmured, almost too quiet for Albus to hear. Albus leaned forward, "Listen to me. There is nothing for you to be afraid of — not yet. You need to go."

Severus pulled his arm tighter to his chest and, for a moment, seemed like he was going to shake his head and say that it was all too much for him. But he didn't. He stood and Albus did so simultaneously, resting one hand over Severus' sore arm, "Make sure you come home to me."

Severus nodded and pulled away from Albus, leaving the Headmaster stood watching the door as it swung closed behind him. He counted the minutes and then finally crossed to the window, watching as a figure crossed the grounds and disappeared into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. He pressed a hand to the glass and watched him go, knowing that he would have to find someone to cover his lessons and feeling evermore uneasy. Voldemort had never summoned Severus in the middle of the day. Why was his heart thudding so painfully? Why was his stomach twisting in such a terrible way?

He turned back to his desk and looked at the list that Severus had brought him. The boy had done that for him, gone to St. Mungo's, had the courage to do the one thing Albus had never been able to do…to actually start searching for his child. Severus had done it without thinking, and it was that that would spur Albus on. But only when Severus was back in the safety of the castle. He put the list in the drawer and closed it, exhaling slowly.

What if Severus never came back to the castle?

He found his travelling cloak and snatched a handful of Floo powder from the pot by the fireplace, throwing it into the fire and shouting, "Cornelius' office!"

* * *

><p>Cornelius Fudge was not one of Albus' favourite people — but he was Minister for Magic and for that reason, Albus always tried to remain polite and genial in his presence. "Good morning, Cornelius."<p>

Cornelius was sat behind his desk, drinking from a glass of whiskey, paper white and seeming much older than he actually was. He barely glanced at Dumbledore, "You're too late, Dumbledore. You-Know-Who has left his mark."

"Then you admit he has returned, Cornelius? You were, of course, warned." Albus murmured. He did not want to seem overly triumphant…but at least now things could be done about Voldemort. "How many were killed?"

"Fourteen." Cornelius stood, "Why were we not warned, Dumbledore? Do you not have a spy in his midst? Did you not tell me that, so many years ago?"

Albus stood straight. "What are you suggesting, Cornelius? That I am losing my touch?"

"I am suggesting, Albus, that we were not warned! Where was your spy?" Cornelius shot back, and Albus felt the rage flood his veins. "If my spy had been aware of such a thing, he would have informed us. He has been incredibly good, these past few years, Cornelius, and I will not allow you to besmirch his name — he is fighting for our cause even now, and is a much braver man than you could ever hope to be. Than any of us could ever be. You risk losing much of my respect, Cornelius, should you question his intentions."

Cornelius did seem cowed by Albus' thunderous tone and blazing blue eyes. "How do you know you can trust him?" He demanded, still willing to speak above a normal level of voice.

Albus folded his arms and stared at Cornelius, "Because I know. Now. I suggest you tidy up the mess that has been created here and attempt to hide much of it from the Daily Prophet, although I imagine Miss Rita Skeeter has already found and written her story, although I believe you think that all publicity is good publicity. Consider this, Cornelius. Voldemort is very much alive," He stopped when Cornelius flinched, "Yes, Cornelius, Voldemort! And if you do not wish to be considered a weakling by those who should respect you, you would do well to start being brave enough to at least say his name. It is just a name, after all." He stepped away, "I bid you good day. There will be more attacks, and I would suggest that you must have leaks within your number. Perhaps, instead of casting aspersions on my spy and his loyalty, you could look through your own ranks and find out who is passing information to them." He turned and headed back for the fireplace, leaving Cornelius Fudge stood stunned and shocked, frozen in place.

* * *

><p>Lunchtime came and went. Albus forced himself to appear at that mealtime, even though staring at Severus' empty chair concerned him. He picked his way through some mashed potato, his appetite very much gone as he considered what might have happened to Severus. Meetings normally lasted only a few hours at the most…he shook his head and tore his eyes from the chair, tuning back into the conversation that Minerva and Pomona were having across the table.<p>

"Did you hear about the attack on the Ministry?" Pomona was asking Minerva, who nodded in response. "I assume this will finally jolt the Minister into action?" She raised her eyes and glared pointedly at Dolores, "What do you think, Dolores?"

It almost amused Albus to see that Dolores Umbridge was wearing a similar expression to the one that Cornelius had worn when Albus had finished his assassination of his character. His mood sobered. He sighed and put his fork down. He really was not hungry.

* * *

><p>Albus had decided to take the fifth year Potions' lesson that Severus should have been teaching. He arrived at Severus' classroom early, standing by the desk and wondering just what Severus had planned to teach his OWL class. He picked up a small notebook that lay open, recognising Severus' scrawling handwriting and reading the words that detailed the correct way to produce an Invisibility potion. Albus smiled slightly when he realised that it could only be a letter of complaint to the editors of one of the many publications about his beloved subject that Severus always seemed to be reading. There were so many facets of Severus' life that he was not yet aware of, even though he knew much more than other people could ever hope to know. The classroom was cold and draughty, and Albus wondered how Severus never seemed to catch cold. He had decided on the potion that they would create, and when the bell rang, realised that he was looking forward to teaching this class. He would, finally, be able to see if Severus' opinions of his students were justified.<p>

His presence was greeted by much approval from the Gryffindors and not particularly well hidden dismay from the Slytherins. He smiled at Harry and his two friends, waiting until the students were quiet and watching him intently. "Professor Snape has been called away for the day to attend to some business, so he has asked that I take over this lesson just for today." He was well aware that Draco Malfoy had sat up in his chair, narrowing his eyes at Dumbledore, clearly wondering what Albus actually meant by his words. "So, I thought we might brew something I find incredibly useful in everyday life — an elation potion. It helps to turn any day slightly more happier, and I believe you will find the instructions on page sixty-one of your textbook." He imagined that Severus had never asked his class to turn to page sixty-one in his whole near fifteen years of teaching. "I assume you know where to find your ingredients; you have one hour, and then I shall collect the results and leave them for Severus to examine when he is back."

He started to patrol the classroom as he assumed Severus most likely did, and paused by Harry's desk when the boy looked up at him. "Where is Snape, sir?"

Albus chastised him in his normal good natured way, "_Professor_ Snape is at a Potions conference, that is all." Harry was, of course, aware that Severus was a spy. When Albus turned, he noted that Master Malfoy had been listening intently for his answer too. He assumed that Draco knew more about the Death-Eater goings-on than most, knowing the affiliations of his father. Albus also knew that he was fond of Professor Snape, as were all the Slytherin students, for their Head was just and fair and undeniably incredibly biased toward his young serpents. He wished that Draco had slightly more respect for him, because he would have been able to talk to him — but Draco Malfoy only ever spoke to Severus.

After sixty minutes of brewing, Albus called the lesson to a close just before the bell rang. "I can imagine that you have must have much revision to do, so no homework assignment for this evening. I will remind you all, though, that OWLs are incredibly important and will determine much of your future career, so please, study hard and well. Dismissed."

Harry approached him when all the other students, besides his friends, had left the room. "What happened at the Ministry, Professor?"

Albus pursed his lips, "And how are you aware of such a thing?"

"Sirius." Harry replied, trying to look as though that was not breaking several rules at once. "Is that where Snape is?"

"_Professor _Snape is simply carrying out his duties, Harry. It need not concern you. I am sure he will also return to teaching you next week. I am glad he had agreed to teach you remedial potions, for I feel you will find it incredibly useful. Off with you now, my boy." He smiled kindly at Harry and watched as he left. The room was now empty — or so he thought — for there was a shuffling noise by one of the desks that suggested otherwise. "Is something troubling you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco's blond head shot up from behind the desk, "No. I was tidying up."

Albus nodded, "Very well. Hurry along to your next lesson." He said softly, waving his wand at the board and clearing the mess he had created on Severus' desk over the course of the lesson. Draco stood and headed for the door, but then lingered. He turned back, as if about to say something. Albus did not look up from his desk, but was aware that Draco was struggling. As Draco finally decided not to talk to the Headmaster and disappeared, Albus called after him, "Your Head of House will be fine, Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

><p>Severus' chair was empty once more at dinner, now past seven o clock. He had been gone for over eight hours. Rumours had started to spread like wildfire amongst the students and staff, and Albus wasn't exactly sure how to quell them. This was out of the ordinary, and Albus was beginning to worry. Moreso than usual. He always worried when Severus was away, but this time…<p>

"Did you say Severus was at a Potions' conference today, Albus?" Pomona asked, trying to cover the absence, as Dolores was making notes on her clipboard. Albus looked over at her, "He is indeed. He has been telling me about it for quite some time now. Wolfsbane, I believe, it is centred on this time." He turned his attention back to his plate and knew that he was being watched. He raised his gaze and his eyes met Minerva's, who knew very well that there was something out of place. Her eyes wandered to Severus' chair and then back to Albus, who exhaled slowly and tried to swallow another mouthful of shepherd's pie, despite the lump that had formed in his throat.

It was the students sat by the left hand side of the hall that saw it first, gasping and exclaiming as a silvery raven suddenly swept into the Great Hall, walls clearly no obstacle as it moved through them in a manner similar to the ghosts, landing in front of Albus at the main staff table. He reached out to touch the raven's crest, knowing what it signified as the raven did not speak, but simply looked at him. Albus leaned forward and murmured to the Patronus, "Tell him I'm coming." He stood, as the raven took off once more, knowing that he had attracted much attention but suddenly not interested in the stares and the murmurs. The Patronus told him only one thing.

Severus was here, but unable to make it to the castle. He used the dungeons' entrance to the castle to step out into the darkened grounds, following the silvery trail of the Patronus as it headed for the Forbidden Forest. He followed it first at a walking pace, but then quickened it to a near run as he realised just how far away Severus was. It suggested that he had not been able to do much more than simply Apparate.

At night, the forest was much more oppressing than it was in the day, and even Albus felt slightly uneasy. He reached into his pocket for his wand and lit the tip with a non-verbal Lumos, eyes still fixed on the Patronus. The bird had landed a few feet away, and Albus could see by the light of his wand the figure that had cast the Patronus originally. He pointed his own wand in the direction of the castle, creating his phoenix Patronus, "Go and fetch Poppy Pomfrey. Bring her here." He commanded, before crossing to Severus and kneeling beside him. "Severus? Are you still conscious?"

A moan coupled with coughing answered him in what Albus supposed was an affirmative, and something like relief swept through the older man as he gathered the puddle of black robes, skin and blood up into his arms and pulled the crude Death-Eater mask away to press a hand to Severus' cheek. Severus' raven Patronus, still sat on the branch of the tree, was creating enough light for Albus to see Severus' eyes, that were open and focused on his face. He cradled him close to his chest, listening to Severus' stuttering breathing and realising that he was incredibly cold. Finally he was able to speak, "Poppy's coming, Severus. Where does it hurt?"

Severus seemed unable to respond, turning his head away and his eyes fluttering closed. "No, no, Severus! You need to stay conscious!" Albus pressed one hand to Severus' chest, and felt something warm ooze over his fingers. He looked down at the blood that now stained his hand and pulled Severus closer, "Severus. Severus, please, stay with me…"

* * *

><p>By the time they got Severus back to the castle, most of the students were in bed, which meant they were not disturbed as Poppy and Albus managed to settle Severus in the Headmaster's office. In the light, the damage was much more evident. Poppy Pomfrey, wearing her matron's outfit and a slightly worried expression, fussed over the younger man, who was drifting between unconsciousness and some state where he seemed hardly present. He still had not spoken. Albus knelt on the bright blue bedspread next to him, watching as Poppy healed much of the surface damage and loosened his robes to examine his chest. "It does not look too bad, Albus, you can relax. He will pull through — these seem to be superficial."<p>

"…Why then is he so…" Albus gestured to Severus, indicating the fact that Severus was not at all awake. "Is that simply blood loss?" He pressed a hand to Severus' forehead, feeling the remains of sweat and some sort of heat burning away under the skin, "Severus, what happened?"

Poppy pulled her bloodied hand away from Severus' chest, "It could be exhaustion. Would You-Know-Who have subjected to him to Legilimency?"

"If he believed Severus to be disloyal, yes." He brushed Severus' hair back behind his ears, "I'm sorry, my boy." He murmured, looking down at Severus' hand, fingers lying limp against the blankets, wanting to take hold of them and never let him go again — how could he continue to subject the boy to this treatment?

Poppy drew away, having applied a bandage to the deep tear in Severus' chest, "He's asleep." She and Albus listened to Severus' quiet breathing for a long minute, until Poppy was satisfied. "It was just surface wounds, Albus, I do not believe he has been through the Cruciatus or anything of that nature. He will be better in the morning, although I recommend he perhaps stays in bed for tomorrow too."

"I highly doubt he will submit to that too." Albus replied, and Poppy smiled. "No. I doubt he will either." She smoothed Severus' robe down, "I suggest you take off these dirty robes and then put him to bed properly. It's a healing sleep. Wait for him to wake naturally. That will most certainly help. Make sure he eats something substantial in the morning and consumes some sort of fluid, and comes to see me in the evening. If you notice anything else, let me know." She smiled at Albus, "He's in good hands here, Albus." She left him to it, as he undid Severus' bloodied robes and pulled the material away, leaving it in a pile on the floor that he would deal with in the morning. He washed his hands to get rid of the blood, and picked Severus up, trying to ignore just how light he was, and settling him under the blankets, trying not to irritate the bandaged wounds across his chest. Severus clearly was asleep, because he turned his head to one side, curling slightly in the warmth. Albus stroked his hair for a few minutes, sitting on the bed behind his friend, finally allowing himself to believe that Severus was here — alive — and not too badly hurt.

He was planning to watch over him the whole night, but sitting here, comforted by the warmth and listening to Severus next to him, he suddenly felt tired. The day had been stressful — tomorrow would be worse still when he would have to force Severus to relive what had happened — and he just wanted to rest. His eyes were heavy and he was slowly drifting off…

* * *

><p><em>The medi-witch picked the baby out from the cradle and handed him to Albus, who took him in his arms, looking down at the sleeping child and suddenly feeling as though his life was complete. He pulled him close to his chest, touching a tiny fist with his finger, listening to the breathing and feeling the warmth and his heart felt as though it might explode with some sort of happiness. He had never felt anything so powerful, so emotional, never in his life.<em>

_"He's waking up." The medi-witch murmured, and he smiled at her, "Thank you, Poppy."_

_The child's eyes flickered open and he smiled at his son, looking down into his eyes, seeing them for the first time…_

_Black eyes, or perhaps very dark brown — no, definitely black — black like onyx and the midnight sky…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Bumblebee Blood**

_This is the fifth and final rewrite of this damnable chapter which has twisted and squirmed whenever I have attempted to approach it, so here I am. Determined to write it! I have finally found an angle I am happy with._

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four:<strong>

Diagon Alley was busy at midday, Albus Dumbledore thought to himself as he cut through the crowds sleekly and headed toward the apothecary on the corner between Knockturn Alley and the mainstream street. He was wandering, but practically invisible so he was not stopped. He did not care for publicity today. People would demand answers from him, and he was not willing to give them. He pulled his hood back and stepped into the apothecary, letting the door swing closed behind him and focusing on the dark shelves and even darker corners of the shadowy shop. He was here to pick up something for Severus — although he was not sure what, just yet. It was supposed to be a surprise, after all.

The boy was awake and back in his office — he had woken at eleven o clock that morning, and had been quiet. Moreso than usual. Severus was always subdued when he returned from Death-Eater meetings, but this was a different sort of quiet. He had hardly spoken to Albus, and had spent a long time in the Headmaster's en-suite bathroom. Albus hadn't been able to _hear _anything, but after Severus had left — a peculiar shade of white — he had a terrible feeling that the other had been throwing up. Which was most unusual. But Albus had let him go, knowing that Severus preferred to be alone when emotionally unstable.

He saw it as a weakness, showing emotion. Albus understood him enough to let him go. He hated to infringe on the other's solace, anyway.

The jars of pickling animals and shelves filled with various herbs and liquids in tiny glass bottles were not particularly inspiring. He was an accomplished potioneer, of course, but sometimes he felt out of his depth when Severus decided to experiment with something new.

"Much choice, is there not?"

Albus turned to see who had spoken to him - a hunchbacked woman was stood watching him, holding a basket that seemed to be filled with eyeballs. She saw him looking, "Predicting the unknown." This was her offer of explanation, and Albus realised she was a Seer — or at least, someone who claimed to see the future. He nodded vaguely in her direction. He was not fond of Seers, except those he had a personal affinity for, such as Sybil. He believed that most were frauds, who liked to scaremonger and cause much havoc.

"You are looking for someone." She said, prompting him to look at her again. "Isn't everyone?" He replied, as airily as possible. The eyes in the basket seemed to be watching him, and he felt slightly unsettled.

"Someone important. The Prince. He has the answer." She tilted her head to one side, "I see a black future. Do not flinch, Professor Albus Dumbledore. Flinch, and you will lose your most precious possession."

"Prince? What Prince?" There were no princes in the wizarding world, of that, Albus was sure.

"Yes, indeed. The Prince. The Prince of Wands. Or perhaps the Prince of Swords." She seemed to be rambling to herself, as she shuffled away. Albus watched her go, before looking back to the shelves.

"Can I help you, sir?" The apothecary owner had finally returned, and glared at Albus in the dim light.

"_Prince of Wands. Or perhaps the Prince of Swords."_ Albus turned his head and watched where the woman had once stood. He did not like to believe Seers. But. He finally remembered where he was, and why he was there, "Yes. I wonder if you could help me…"

* * *

><p>Albus had returned to Hogwarts after one beaker of whiskey in the Leaky Cauldron, so he was later than expected. Minerva greeted him in the hallway, and he politely enquired after Severus.<p>

"I have not seen him." She said in response. "He left some notes for his seventh years, but has no other lessons this afternoon, so I assume he is brewing." She did not sound particularly concerned. Albus narrowed his eyes. Something was concerning him, about Severus and his behaviour. Usually, the boy was desperate to return to teaching — and hated leaving his classes alone because they _misbehaved_. His seventh years was his favourite class, too. He diverted from his original path and headed into the dungeons, checking his pocket watch, wondering if Severus had eaten that afternoon. He hesitated outside Severus' door.

The wards were strong. Incredibly strong. Albus was not sure if he could penetrate them — clearly, Severus did not wish to be disturbed. He knocked, instead, "Severus? I went to the apothecary in Diagon Alley and brought something back for you…" Bribery and corruption, he smirked, as he looked up and down the draughty dungeon corridor and wondered if installing enchanted windows really would ruin the atmosphere, as Severus so vehemently stated. There seemed to be no response. "Severus?" Maybe Severus was not in his office — although — the wards suggested he wanted to be alone. Albus did not like these mood swings, "Severus, do not make me force my way in."

Still nothing. He raised one eyebrow at the door handle, allowing Severus one final moment to reveal himself. He had to smile — he was picturing the eleven-year-old boy who had entered Hogwarts such a long time ago. Albus would never have been able to tell, back then, that Severus would become quite so important to him. He remembered, almost fondly, the nickname Severus had made for himself. The Half-Blood Prince, inscribed into the front of his textbooks, and even though he imagined the teachers did not know who it was, they clearly did.

It was then that it hit him.

"_He used to call me his dark prince. In a tarot deck, I assume that would be the Prince of Swords."_

"_I thought you did not care for tarot."_

"_I don't. But the Dark Lord did."_

Could it…no…that was simply not possible…could the answer to his query truly lie with Severus? No. He would know, surely, if Severus was…it was just a Seer, she would never be able to — but then how would she know that Severus had referred to himself as the Prince of Swords? Why choose that particular…

His thoughts were interrupted when the door was pulled open and he was confronted with Severus.

Severus who was shaking violently, white faced, and red eyed. Albus looked at him, alarmed, "Severus?"

Severus stared at him for a long moment. Then he spoke, and his voice was the harshest of whispers. "I killed someone last night."


	5. Chapter 5

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Sorry about the delay - I know I left it on a terrible cliff hanger!_

_Random fact - yes, I am in Pottermore._

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five:<strong>

_"I killed someone last night."_

Albus stared at Severus, unable to fully react to the words that had fallen from his lips, forced out from somewhere deep inside the younger man. He blinked once, hoping that he had simply imagined them - but a longer gaze at Severus, the state of his eyes and the paleness of his cheeks and the way his teeth were piercing his bottom lip - he knew it could only be the truth. He remembered to take a breath, aware he had not yet reacted to Severus' statement, but not even sure how to.

He supposed the movement was involuntary - he would never have intentionally meant to hurt Severus in this way - but it happened, anyway. He took a step back.

Severus flinched, averted his gaze, turned his head away. "I'm sorry."

Albus shook his head, "No. No, Severus, I'm sorry - that's not what I meant."

"I knew it would be this way. You cannot stand to look at me. I had no choice!" Severus shouted in response, voice trembling, and before Albus could say anything, he had turned away, slammed the door closed, and Albus was left in the corridor, still reeling.

He paused for a moment, "Severus. Would you please consider opening the door? We need to talk about this - that was wrong of me, I was simply reacting to your statement - but I understand that you…" He trailed off when there seemed to be no answer from Severus, and instead his mind filled with an image of Severus raising his wand, uttering the words of the Killing Curse, voice impassive and face set in a mask - he imagined Lord Voldemort's delighted laugh, the praise he would heap upon Severus, the fact it must have been a test - he hardened and sharpened his voice like a knife, "Severus. Open the door. Immediately." He did not like speaking to Severus as if he were a mere child, but sometimes, a reminder of authority helped to cut through the protection that Severus built around himself.

It worked. Albus heard the door handle turn and stepped into the room when allowed, not invited, closing it behind him and leaning against the frame, watching Severus, who was arranging books on his desk into piles of equal height and shape and size and thickness. This continued for at least five minutes, before Severus raised his head, "It was a Muggle." The pure disgust in his tone worried Albus, knowing it was aimed only at himself, and not the fact it was Lord Voldemort who manipulated such hatred and death - and Severus. "Severus. I assume it was a test."

"You don't understand!" Severus replied angrily, "I did not _have _to! I could have declined! Instead, I saw my own self preservation as more important than that man's life!" He pushed the books from the desk with a strangled cry of emotions that Albus could not even begin to fathom.

Albus waited for the dust to settle before moving closer to Severus, approaching him carefully, like a wild animal who could lash out if provoked or frightened, "Tell me."

Severus looked up from the desk, slumping into the chair behind and still watching Albus, "In all the details?"

"As much as you can manage." Albus hoped that this, some sort of emotional cathexis, would help Severus to find some closure. Talking had always helped in the past, even if it had taken Albus some time to convince the younger wizard to open up to him and trust him enough.

Severus nodded, knowing that he would only have to speak when he was ready, that Albus would wait until he was able. He ran his tongue across his bleeding bottom lip, tasting metal, scratching his nail against the wood of his desk. "It was the aftermath of a raid."

_The smell of blood hung heavy in the air, infiltrating his nostrils as he stood, arms behind his back, trying not to breathe. He watched the Dark Lord, standing with his back to them, surveying the burning wreckage of the building, ignoring the screams and cries of his prisoners. He wished he was able to block his ears, raise his hands, stop the sounds hurtling through his skull and pounding against his brain. His teeth started to gnaw his bottom lip, hidden behind his mask, the only sign that belied his anxiety._

"There were ten prisoners. Women and men - the children had been left to burn - and there were ten Death-Eaters present. I do not know if we have all been marked or if only a couple of us, hidden, like weeds in a meadow - he will never reveal that - but I just counted and knew then that each of us would be assigned a victim. And I knew, also, that he would make me wait."

_"A little fun, tonight?" Lord Voldemort murmured to those present. He turned and favoured them with a terrible smile. "One each, I feel, is fair?" Eagerness corrupted the atmosphere even further, and he found his palms were sweaty, and he would not meet the Dark Lord's gaze, not even when it rested upon him for a long minute. He simply stared at some point on the ground, because he would not let those red eyes penetrate his shields and find the fact that his stomach was churning and he was so sure he would be sick._

"He made me wait until the end. He let me sweat and panic and become more anxious, knowing that I had not…had not killed…before…and knowing the affect that knowledge was having. On me."

_Blood ran thick along the floor. Burnt flesh was left to smoulder upon the floor. The screams had lessened into…into nothing. One man, left, staring at the remains of his family, too stunned and too shocked and too devastated to do anything beyond that, and he raised his terrified brown eyes to the last Death-Eater who had yet to act._

_"Severus. I have left the privilege of going last to you." Voldemort's voice, soft, caressing, encouraging, and yet he found his legs could not move._

"I was petrified."

_"Now, now, Severus - we all have things to do - please remember that I _want _you to do this. Would you like a little prompting?" He could not even draw his wand - that was too difficult - drawing his wand, to torture and kill? No, he couldn't, and he wanted to plead with Voldemort, but if he moved or opened his mouth, he was sure the bile would spill from his lips and he would not be able to talk._

"I could not respond to his command - he came closer - "

_Red eyes looked into his, "What is the matter, servant mine?"_

_He would not look at that gaze. He would not._

_"Here, let me see - " Voldemort pulled the mask away, exposing a face that was pale beyond natural standards, putting one cold finger under his chin and tilting his face upward. _

"I looked into his eyes and I saw it. The doubt."

_It was the doubt that woke him. It was like electricity, suddenly thudding through his nerves, his very survival instinct, begging him to do something, to react, to shut himself off from the situation and let his body work. He jerked his head upright, drawing his wand, stepping over to the prisoner and ignoring the strangled plea that fell from his lips._

He stopped, breathing difficult, choked with sobs and trembles. His hands were twisting together painfully. Albus crossed the room, kneeling next to him and taking those damp hands in his, "You are doing very well. Keep going."

Severus shook his head, eyes tightly clamped shut, but somehow a tear was managing to escape. "…I can't…"

"Yes, you can, you have to. Let yourself feel, Severus, it will help. I promise."

Severus opened his eyes and glanced at Albus, sat before him, just waiting. "I…I didn't want to…"

"I know. But you are right - you had to - Severus, he would - "

"I didn't kill him outright." Severus interrupted him, "I used the Cruciatus first. I made him writhe on the floor, and the Dark Lord, he said well done - and I couldn't stop - why couldn't I stop?" He wrenched his hands away from Dumbledore, standing up, hurtling away to the other side of the room, "Don't touch me, I don't want you tainted - it doesn't stop - I went further - my own spell, _for enemies_, and yet here I was, using it on some Muggle who had never known anything of magic or wizards - he just was there, on the day, when the Dark Lord came, and I was…" He broke off, shaking his head, "What is wrong with me?"

_"Please - stop - please!"_

_But he carried on. He carried…on._

"Severus."

"So I waited until he asked me to kill him. I waited until he _begged _me - I waited until he was _pleading _with me - what does that make me?" Severus slumped against the wall, emotions nearly spent, "I killed him at the end."

_"Avada Kedavra."_

_"Well done, Severus." A whisper, close to his ear. "Very well done, indeed."_

"It was just an act, Severus…" Albus tried to sooth, not sure whether to go to Severus, or if the boy truly would lash out now. He seemed to be close to the edge of his very control.

"No!" He bellowed back, "It was not an act! I felt it! I wanted it!" He drew his wand from his pocket, staring at the black ash, before throwing it onto the carpet, "Look at that - the last spell I cast - the Killing Curse - and I wanted it. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to feel what it was like to have…to have that power! The power of life and death - at my very hand! I have become the very evil I sought to destroy."

Albus did not like this train of thought. Not at all. He stood and moved so he was opposite Severus, "You are not him."

Severus was very far gone in a haze of red and fog, "So what am I, then, Headmaster? What does that make me?"

"Severus - dark magic - the Unforgiveables - they do things to a soul. They feed on blood and use that to create the image of power - and any mortal man would be seduced by that power - that is not your fault! Anyone given the opportunity to end or preserve life would feel the same - that does not make you him. You were frightened, Severus, and that man - he was standing between you and safety, between us and the end of this war. Voldemort would have killed him anyway, and he would have killed you too - or worse - you cannot do this to yourself…"

Severus did not seem to hear him. "I hate myself. I thought perhaps I could learn to live with myself. I am just one of them." He collapsed into a sitting position by the wall, shaking his head. Albus watched him for a moment, seeing the tears that streaked his cheeks, the way his whole body trembled like a leaf, carried on the wind. He sat next to Severus, pulling a handkerchief from his robes and carefully wiping the tears away, "You are proving to me, Severus, that you are not a Death Eater, simply because you are this upset about what you have done. You are a good person. I promise." He sat back and smiled at Severus, "Severus. What holds together a wizard's spell book?"

Severus looked at him, suitably distracted from his own torment by the ludicrousness of Albus' statement. "What?"

"Spell binding." Albus replied, without hesitating, and despite himself, Severus half smiled. Albus brushed a hand through his hair, looking into his eyes, "You're hurting. But you'll survive."

Severus looked away, raising a hand to his cheek, "I'm sorry - I was -"

"Don't you dare apologise to me, Severus Snape. Don't you dare apologise to anyone. You will never have to apologise to anyone. Now. How about we go and find some dinner, hmm? You need to eat something." He prodded Severus' ribcage, "You're starting to get thin."

Severus nodded, clearing his throat, and was about to stand up - when Albus suddenly hugged him. "And for the record? Even if you were the darkest soul, tainted beyond all belief, I would still be here."

Severus pulled away to look at him, to challenge him, "Why?"

"Just because. Now. Clean yourself up. You look like a first year student homesick on the first night." He pushed Severus to his feet, watching him disappear into the bathroom, and stood himself, leaning against the wall.

But Severus' question echoed in his mind. Why would Albus still be there? Albus' comment had been emotional, purely instinctive, something he had just wanted to say, and it had tumbled from his lips.

Why, even if Severus Snape had killed twenty people that night - men, women or children - would Albus had still been able to sit with him, to wipe the tears away, to reassure him, to help him, to protect him?

Why?


	6. Chapter 6

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Issues addressed in the last chapter will return later, I am sure. For now, we return the storyline - I think Albus needs a little prompting, don't you? He really is SLOW on the uptake._

_Enjoy!_

~ SS19

* * *

><p>A knock at the door alerted Severus to a visitor. He raised his head from his book and waved his hand distractedly at the entrance to his chambers, returning his attentions to his book when it started to open.<p>

"Severus!" Albus greeted him with that usual joviality and Severus glanced across at him, "Good morning, Headmaster."

"I was thinking." Albus announced, walking in even though he had not been generally invited, "It's a beautiful day outside."

"Is it?" Severus responded, still absorbed in his book.

"Indeed it is - and I thought that a picnic would be an extremely good idea." Albus continued, gesturing to his picnic basket, "I'd like it very much if you could join me, Severus."

"No." Severus answered, turning the page.

Albus looked disappointed. "I was hoping you would say yes."

"I do not care for picnics." Severus had still not raised his head.

Albus came closer, "I wanted to spend some time with you - the last week, you have been particularly...difficult to speak to." Nearly a week had passed since Severus' last Death-Eater meeting, and he had been particularly reserved since then. The other teachers had noticed it too, and Minerva had mentioned it casually to Albus in conversation. Albus had been quick to reassure her that Severus was simply under stress, but the boy had ignored three of his invites to tea and Albus had taken matters into his own hands. He was not sure if the murder of the Muggle had truly shaken his younger friend, and wanted to be there to support him.

Severus closed his book, "I take it you will not accept no, as an answer?"

Albus grinned, delighted, "I absolutely will not take no for an answer - you need some fresh air, and a little sunlight on your face. I have packed sandwiches - yes, cress ones before you ask, and some cake, and I know a perfect spot where the students won't spot you being a creature of the day..."

Severus seemed about to roll his eyes, but instead he stood and held his hands out, "After you, then."

* * *

><p>"I really do not see how you can sit in your dungeons, all day, and never come outside, Severus!" Albus chastised gently, glancing at Severus who was admiring the lake before them.<p>

"I do come outside, I go to the place in the Forbidden Forest - I just prefer to be indoors." Severus replied, returning his attention to his half-finished plate of cress sandwiches.

Albus spent a moment listening to the sounds of the birds and the gentle breeze, watching as Severus flicked his hair back behind his ears for perhaps the umpteenth time. "How are you, really?"

A long pause. "Coping." Severus glanced across at him, "Have you done anything further about your son?"

"I have written a letter to someone I believe may have been the medi-witch who helped Morgan and I, but I have not received a response as yet. I have been focusing on the war more than my own gains, after all." Albus carefully stretched his legs out before him, wincing slightly at the sound of creaking bones and wishing that the onslaught of age was something else he could fight.

"Maybe she will come back with something - and if not, we can continue looking." Severus finished his sandwich, brushed the crumbs from his fingers, smoothing the picnic blanket down and seeming to relax just a little more.

"_We_?" Albus repeated, "_We_ are doing this, are _we_?"

Severus smirked, "Unless you would not like my help, Headmaster - I have other things to do with my time."

Albus did not reply to that, but smiled to himself. "It is pleasantly warm, is it not?"

Severus made an affirming noise in the back of his throat, now watching a bird as it made passage across the cloudless sky. "Looks like a raven."

"Like your Patronus, Severus. I have always admired that Patronus - you realise, of course, that the raven is the opposite of the phoenix?"

Still observing the bird, "I had never really thought about it."

"I always wondered if we were destined to be reunited - "

"Do be quiet, Headmaster, your sentimental twaddle offends me." Severus' eyes were closed and he was enjoying the sun, so Albus refrained from embarrassing him any further.

They enjoyed a further ten minutes in silence, companionable and gentle, neither feeling the need to break the piece and simply content to just be. Albus' thoughts, however, had turned morbid - he was wondering how many moments, like these, he could share with Severus. How long would it be before this was their last? It could be this very moment, and he wanted to keep telling Severus just how important he was, so the last things Severus may hear from him would be compliments and praise. The thought of not seeing Severus at breakfast, or paying him a visit in his office, or exchanging their verbal banter...it pained him.

"Headmaster? Are you quite well?"

Albus had not realised he was staring at Severus, "...My boy?"

"You are staring at me." Severus pointed out.

"I was just...thinking..." Albus trailed off, shaking his head. He couldn't tell Severus what thoughts were chasing through his mind, and the images that had started to haunt his dreams.

"Albus." Severus murmured, voice soft. "Please stop worrying about me."

He should have known - Severus could read him easily. "It's difficult, my boy, I can't switch off those feelings - not easily, anyway. I just wonder if moments like these - moments where we can simply be - are numbered."

"That is the nature of life, Headmaster. Death could come to either of us at any time - do not dwell on what is certain - dwell in the present." Severus answered, and Albus raised an eyebrow, "That is rather wise of you, my boy - where did you pick up such wisdom?"

"I seem to remember you telling me it, a year ago before the Dark Lord had decided to return." Severus smiled, "Not that I do not appreciate your concern - but you have more important things to be concerned about. The war, for example."

Albus reached across the rug and patted Severus' hand, "I will always consider you important - perhaps moreso than the war."

"More important than Potter?"

"That is unfair play, Severus." Albus replied, responding to Severus' tone of humour but wondering if there was more truth in the question.

Severus did not press the matter any further, and their picnic ended in soft friendship.

* * *

><p>Arriving back in their respective offices much later that evening, Severus and Albus both found letters waiting for them.<p>

Albus frowned at the unfamiliar handwriting - it was not the Minister, who was known for messaging him often - so he broke open the seal and started to read the parchment.

Severus, many floors below in the dungeons, was doing the same, but he had recognised the handwriting. He lowered himself into a chair as he read.

Albus couldn't hold the excitement any longer - he had to tell Severus! - and he started down to the dungeons.

Severus let his fingers fall limp and the letter drop into his lap as he reacted to the words.

The door to Severus' office was unlocked, and Albus didn't think to knock before, "Severus! She remembers the child! She says she knows who the mother is, and she is willing to meet with me!" He stopped abruptly when he took in Severus, collapsed in his chair, shoulders slumped. "Severus! What is it?" He crossed to the younger man, noticing pain and some sort of distress, "Severus?"

His Potions' Master looked up at him, gesturing blankly to the letter in his lap. "It's my mother." He whispered, a tremble in his syllables. "She's dying."


	7. Chapter 7

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Be prepared to hate SS19..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven:<strong>

He was nervous.

Severus stepped into the dimly lit room, his footsteps soft against the carpet and his head slightly lowered. There was something morbid about this already - he looked up through his dark eyelashes and saw the figure lying in the bed, frail and pale and weak. His mother.

She had seen him, and smiled, and reached out a shaking hand to him. He crossed to the bed with more determination, taking her hand and kneeling next to her, "Hello, Mother."

She looked at him, "Severus. My dear son...I am so glad you could come." His mother had long dark hair that was similar to his and brown eyes and she was thin usually - now practically a skeleton - Severus tightened his grip on her hand, "Of course." It had been so many year since she had last seen him - and he seen her - because since the argument with his father and his removal from the family home, they had lost contact. The letter had been brief. "What is it? The illness?"

"The doctors think it's pneumonia. Even a witch cannot fight illness, Severus - even one with a brilliant Potioneer for a son." Her voice was gentle, touched with affection, and he smiled despite himself. "I'm not that good."

"I saw your name in a publication, just the other week. Then Professor Dumbledore in the Prophet - he mentioned you." Eileen Prince whispered, not wanting to waste her strength, but still pleased to see him. "I'm very proud of you, Severus."

He ducked his head and almost flushed.

"Your father is too, I am sure."

He tensed. "Has he been here?"

A slight silence. "No. He has not been since he left."

Severus nodded abruptly. "Good. He does not deserve to be here."

"Severus." She chastised softly, "I do wish you and he would try to reconcile - he is your father, after all - "

"Why should I have to?" This was the main argument between them, "After all he did to you - and to me - why should I have to be anywhere near him? Because I am his son? I do not want to be!"

She paused. "Let's not talk about this here."

He sobered, "I am sorry, Mother. You know that he and I will never understand each other - he does not know what I am - and I do not understand what he is."

"I know, Severus. I know. I just wish you had someone who would protect you when I am gone."

He looked at her, "Do not be so ridiculous - this is pneumonia - nothing more. You might feel weak now, Mother, but many people survive this. It is nothing to worry about." There was something almost hopeful in his voice - he still loved her, despite everything, and he did not wish to lose her. Better his father, than her.

"Severus - I find myself tired - I think it has to be my time. Are you happy, though? At Hogwarts?"

He looked at her for a long moment, and then answered with something involuntary. "Very."

"I can see it - it's him, isn't it? He is looking after you - that's good - that helps me." She reached out and brushed the back of her hand to his cheek, "I love you so very much, Severus, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what? It was never your fault, Mother. It was always him." He knew the mind-games that his father had used to play, the controlling element, the words that had corrupted both him and his mother.

"No, I mean..." And she looked at him, but could not find the words. "Never mind. I am so glad that you are here, Severus. My boy."

* * *

><p>He was nervous.<p>

Albus stepped into the brightly lit office, raising his head to look at the woman sat behind the desk. She smiled at him in welcome, and he felt some of the emotion dissipate, "Good morning."

She stood and held out a hand for him to shake, "Professor Dumbledore, is it not?"

"Albus, please." He replied, sitting down when offered. This was Olivia, the woman who had apparently been at the birth of his son - who knew where the boy had been placed - and he wanted to dispense with the pleasantries and demand to know the answer to the question that had plagued him, but instead he waited. He would show restraint, of course.

Olivia regarded him, and he her. He was not particularly sure if it was her - there was something familiar in her face, but it had been thirty years ago, and he wondered if she recognised him. She had, of course, been forced to make a vow not to tell anyone of what she had seen - but she could tell him. If she was so willing. He cleared his throat to break the uneasy silence, "I was very grateful for your letter."

"I remember it very clearly - he was a small child - and I remember the reasons for your decision." A slight pause, "I also agree with them. Are you sure about this? Entering a child's life, so many years later - it will bring much pain and confusion, for the both of you."

Albus fiddled with his fingers, "I know that - whoever he is - I know that he will think me a coward for abandoning him - but I could not bring him into that war and risk him being harmed. Now - he is an adult - and I fear that if I do not reconnect with him now, I may never see him. The time feels right."

She watched him, and he realised that he did recognise those eyes, "And you are ready for the fact he may reject the knowledge?"

He stared at her, but then nodded, "Yes. I just want to know."

"Very well." She stood and reached into one of the drawers, "I have here the record of the person I gave the child to - I do not his name, or his current location - but this is the record of the mother, and from there, you should be able to go further. She lost a child, I believe - she lived in Manchester at the time - but I know very little else about her." She pulled out a sheaf of parchment, holding it for a moment, "I would prefer you did not disclose where you have retrieved this information from - it's a little unconventional - but I think he deserves to know the truth about who his father is."

He nodded, desperate to see what was written on that piece of paper.

"Here. I hope that it helps." She passed the parchment to him, and he scanned the medical information - the baby's birthday, his weight, distinguishing characteristics - the adoptive mother -

Everything seemed to freeze, but there was no denying the two words that lay on the parchment.

_Eileen Snape._

* * *

><p><em>Ha ha ha ha *continues to laugh evilly* Oh, am I in for some fun now! I wonder where Albus is going now - he won't believe this - but will he be in time to speak to Severus' adoptive mother and reveal himself?<em>

_And how on Earth he is going to tell Severus?_

_Also - Eileen means 'shining' - hence the 'shining Prince' from the earlier chapter._

_If you had figured it out, well done! If you didn't - well, I am an Albus/Severus lover, so why would it be anyone else? You may now love me once more *hugs*_


	8. Chapter 8

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Only one update tonight as I have had a very hectic week and have not had any time to write *sad face* but will make up for it next week._

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight:<strong>

Albus Dumbledore stared at the piece of paper before him, the name that described who his son had been given to and found it suddenly difficult to breathe. His chest felt tight as he clenched the parchment into a curled fist. "This cannot be." He murmured, and Olivia glanced up at him, "The record is correct."

"No - no - you don't understand. She cannot be…" The very idea - no - "I have to speak to her…" But she was dying - Severus had said - he had received a letter - he had said his mother was dying - Eileen Snape - but perhaps she had more than one child - a boy she had given away - maybe the child had died - but Severus' birthday was January 9th and Albus' child had been born on January 1st - it was too much like coincidence but Albus could not bring himself to accept it - he would speak to Eileen and she would clarify everything for him - and he would not have to deal with the fact that Severus - his Severus - his intelligent and brooding and mysterious Potions' Master - could be the child he abandoned thirty years before.

He would not be able to deal with that.

* * *

><p>The house was quiet when Albus arrived and he hated to disturb it, but he had to know the truth. He spoke to the nurse who was attending the household, explaining that he was a friend of the family and wished to pay his respects to one of his past students - he was trying to stay calm and composed yet something was making his hands tremble and his heart pound uncomfortably. The nurse nodded and smiled a sad smile and led him to the bedroom, where Albus was treated to the image of Severus asleep, half in the armchair and half collapsed on the bed next to his mother. Albus' eyes were drawn to the woman lying frail and weak in the bed, one hand gently stroking Severus' hair. "Eileen." He announced, and she turned to look at him, "Professor Dumbledore."<p>

"Oh, Albus, please. You are not my student any more, my dear." He smiled and crossed closer to the bed, "I will not stay long."

"I am honoured by your visit." She replied, "Severus speaks incredibly highly of you."

Albus let his gaze linger on his Professor for a moment, "He is very talented - you should be very proud of him. How are you feeling?"

She paused, "Tired." Her eyes dropped from Albus', "It's been a very long sixty years. I will be glad of the rest."

"Eileen. I need to ask you something. Something important - and I am sorry to bring it up now - but this may be the last chance I have." Albus clasped his hands together in his lap and interlinked his fingers until the knuckles turned nearly white, "It's about Severus."

She watched him, "Yes?"

An awkward silence that he found difficult to break. "You see…the thing is…I need to know if…" He could just leave this. He could just walk away and leave this in the past and not have to pry any deeper into a past that was not his. The child was gone - forgotten - just a memory - and yet - he should just leave it - "Severus. Is he your child?"

Eileen stiffened and whatever colour she had left drained from her face as she stared at Albus. "Pardon?" She glanced at Severus to check she had not woken him, and then returned an angry gaze to Albus, "What are you suggesting?"

He raised his hands to pacify, "I have received information about a child that I have been seeking - a child who was passed into the Muggle world when he was just born - and you were named as the child's surrogate mother - but, it could be a mistake - it is clearly a mistake - I am so sorry to have bothered you with this -" He was about to stand when Eileen spoke again. "The information is right."

It was Albus' turn to stare. "He's not…"

"He is my child in terms of I am the one who has brought him up and cared for him - but he is not biologically mine - I gave birth to a stillborn child in January 1960 - and to save pain, I was given Severus." She soothed his hair as Severus shifted position but did not wake, "Toby always wanted a son. To not provide him with one would have been dissatisfying. Severus needed a mother - and I needed a child." It was almost as if she was challenging Albus to disagree, "He is almost certainly, however, my son."

Albus half smiled, "I know. I know. I just - " His smile faded - "Is there anything different about him?"

"Only his eyes - his eyes were blue but I enchanted them to seem closer to dark brown, like his father's." Eileen grimaced and coughed, Albus leaning over to pass her a tissue.

"Blue eyes." Albus repeated softly. His eyes returned to the still dozing Severus. Could it really be?

"It's funny - " Eileen whispered once she had recovered herself. "His eyes. They were almost the exact same as - well - yours."

Albus looked away.

She watched him. "That's not possible."

"That's what I thought."

"But Severus - he can't be - " Her voice had gained a tremble, "Why?"

"His mother died giving birth - I was heavily involved in the war - I couldn't bring a child into that - he would have been nothing more than a weapon - a burden - I had no idea he would come to me - " Albus uncharacteristically rested his head in his hands for a mere moment, "How am I going to tell him?"

Eileen blinked and steadied herself, "He's yours. I always wondered if I would meet his true family - but I never thought - you - but he would never have been a burden! A child is a wonderful gift - " She trailed off. "You left a letter with him - didn't you? A letter to his prospective parents."

"Yes. It asked you to protect him and to guide him and to love him in the way I never could - there was a necklace as well - I promised one day, I would use it to find my way back to him." Albus straightened, "Well - thank you - you have raised him very well and you are clearly his true parents - so, between us, thank you for looking after my son."

"You have to tell him." She said softly. "You have to."

"No - I can't - it will destroy his life - he has a mother and a father - "

Eileen interrupted, "Severus hates Toby - and it's mutual. Has he never told you about his father and their relationship?" She frowned when Albus shook his head, "They do not get on with each other - listen to me - I have done as you asked - I have protected Severus to the best of my abilities and for that, I am sorry that I could not do more - but you need to make the same promise to me." She reached out for Albus' hand, which he took, "You have to protect him. You have to guide him. And for Merlin's sake - you have to love him. He needs it. He may seem aloof and untouchable - but he has been that way since he was a small child - and the best thing anyone can do for him is to sit beside him and put an arm around his shoulders and simply listen to him." She smiled, "He's a wonderful child."

"I know." Albus whispered. "I know."

"He does care for you - you can see it - he wants the relationship that you two have - but you have to look after him. Severus can be so reckless and foolish when someone he loves is in danger." She stopped that sentence abruptly and Albus wanted to interrogate further but knew it was inappropriate. "Eileen. Please know this. I love Severus - I really do - and I will not let anything hurt him."

She nodded and smiled at him, just as their so far silent companion stirred and raised his head. "Albus." He smiled, and then looked to his mother, "I thought I heard talking."

"Albus was simply keeping me company." Eileen murmured, letting her hand drop from Albus'. She coughed again, and Albus saw Severus wince. "I shall leave you two in peace. Good day, Eileen."

"Good bye, Albus - and thank you. I think you know what for."

He nodded and closed the door.

* * *

><p>Albus was to be found several hours later sat in his office, staring at a photograph in his hand. It was the class of the year 1964 - and there, in the front - was a certain sulking wizard with dark hair and very pale skin. Albus reached out and traced the outline of the teenaged Severus. This was his son. The child from the memory. He had missed out on so much - his boy growing up - he was not sure how he felt about the news - the fact that it was Severus - someone he truly cared for and did view him like a son - how he felt they had been connected - but - Severus was also his spy, a weapon to be used in the war against Lord Voldemort - what could Albus possibly do now, because he would not send his son into the arms of Lord Voldemort - never again.<p>

The door opened and Severus entered. He leaned against the wall and was silent before looking to Albus. "She fell asleep."

Albus put the photograph face down on the desk and stood. "I'm sorry."

Severus made some sort of affirming noise under his breath before stepping forward. "That's what the nurse said." He lingered by the sofa, playing with the ruby material, a frown crossing his forehead. "I should have spent more time with her."

Albus wanted to interrupt but he would just let Severus talk. He was guilty of not spending enough time with someone too.

"Pneumonia. She should not have died from that." He seemed to be shivering. "I just…she was my mother…" He sat down heavily on the sofa. Albus settled beside him. Severus turned to look at him, "Do you realise something?"

"What's that?" Albus answered gently, reaching out and tenderly straightening Severus' collar.

"You are all I have left in this world." Severus shook his head, "Well - all that I care about, anyway."

"Don't be silly, Severus." Albus couldn't bear the quiet dependency in Severus' voice.

His black eyes were sparkling. "Will it stop?" He swallowed. "Everything. When will it stop? All the change and the torment and the death. Will it stop?"

Albus put one arm around Severus' shoulders and pulled him close, "Hush. Don't."

"All I want is some…stability. Don't take that from me, Headmaster. Please."

Albus simply tightened his embrace and closed his eyes so Severus could not see the tears that sparkled in his blue gaze too. He held Severus, and did not let go.

He held his son, and did not let go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Bumblebee Blood**

_After some interesting revelations in the last chapter, one of our characters is about to come to terms with some life changing information. But will he have the courage to tell his son the truth?_

_SOMEHOW I DON'T THINK SO!_

_~SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine:<strong>

He took in a deep breath and raised his head so he was finally looking into the mirror with the enchanted glass. He waited for a long moment, watching as the mirror seemed to consider what it would reflect. Finally, it settled on an image—and it was just as painful as he had imagined. He was staring at himself, admittedly from a few years before, dressed in darker robes and standing in a shady room where there was very little light. His arms were held close to his body, creating a cradle, and lying half asleep within that cradle was a child. A baby, more precisely, of only a few hours old. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and wished he had not decided to look into the mirror that showed him his heart's desire.

Albus Dumbledore stared at himself, the reflection of his past self, holding his son in his arms. His son. He had spent much of the past few weeks searching for the child, not allowing the child to leave his thoughts, and now at the end of it all he had been given an answer. An answer to his question. Where was his son now? He had found the answer, and now had to react to it.

The fact that Severus Snape was the boy he had given away, so many years ago.

He turned from the mirror and lowered himself into his chair, shaking his head and letting it fall into his hands because he could not hold himself upright. He felt drained, as if his very strength had been stripped away. This was not how he had imagined it to be - he had thought that he would find the name of his son and he would go to him and he would tell him the news and things would be _good_! But instead…his son already lived with him, in Hogwarts castle, and many times had expressed such a sentiment about them being like father and son - more Albus being a meddling parent - so why was this so difficult for him to comprehend?

Because it had not been real. It had been one of their fantasies, a dream, a joke shared between them and used as a barb when necessary. Others said it - they were like family - and they just laughed and shook their heads and it could never be real.

But Severus. He did love Severus, absolutely, with all of his heart and he cared so much for the boy. But Severus was a weapon. A weapon to be used against Lord Voldemort. A spy. He was sent to Lord Voldemort to find out information and bring it back to Albus so that he could win the war. How could he possibly do that now? How could he push Severus into Voldemort's waiting arms and allow him to suffer and be hurt and risk death now that he was the boy Albus had lost so long ago?

The more Albus thought about this, the more disgusted in himself he became. What right did he have to now pull Severus away from Voldemort because he had learnt this one small truth? He had admitted before how much he cared for Severus and still forced him to carry out his duty - or at least did not stop him when Severus refused not to go - and now Albus knew just how important the other was, he could change that? What did that make him?

He opened the drawer in his desk and pulled out the blanket that rested on the top. He remembered, with vivid clarity, wrapping the boy - the baby - up in this fabric and holding him close to his chest, knowing that a bond was being formed that would never be undone - that one day he would be reunited with this child and would be able to care for him in the same way.

But all those things he had missed! Severus' first birthday - in fact, every single birthday - Christmases, the first day at school, picking him up from the ground when he fell, talking to his teachers about his progress, the pride as he watched his son grow and the way he could pick his child up in his arms and hug him and feel his son hug him back. His Sorting - Albus had not missed that - in fact, he had been there, but he had treated Severus with such apathy that he had hardly paid attention, far more interested with who was sorted into Gryffindor - and he had missed Severus gaining his green and silver tie. There had been no paternal connection then - he had gone through his school days tormenting the younger wizard by choosing to favour Gryffindor -

His son had nearly died in his sixth year. What if James had not gone to rescue him in time? What if Severus had been mauled and killed by a werewolf - Albus would never have known. Would have he cared beyond the grief at losing a student? He clutched the blanket in a clenched fist and felt tears burn his eyes - he did not deserve any pity - he deserved this self-hatred, and the hatred that he would receive should he ever reveal this secret - how he had abused his own child, albeit unwittingly and unknowingly - but he would have to pull Severus out of the war. Severus could not go back to Voldemort - that was impossible. Albus would find someone else and he would keep his son here where he was safe, and he wondered if it was wise to tell Severus - Severus who was in so deep and tied so tightly to his two masters in a web of deceit and distrust and danger - Severus who was still mourning his mother and was frightened for his very life - Severus who had recently murdered another human being…

Severus Snape, his son, was a murderer and had been a Death-Eater - his son, whom he had imagined would grow up to be a figurehead for the Wizarding World, someone to carry the Dumbledore name into a future where there could be war - someone to protect those who needed protecting - and instead, Severus was a spider, content to hide in the dark and the cold and commit dark and cold deeds at the command of a master who abused him and tortured him to ensure subservience…

All at the request of his father.

A knock at the door, and Albus raised his head. He was aware of the tears streaking his cheeks and he stood, turning away to face the window with the blanket still clasped in his hand. "Come in." Surely it would take only a moment to steady himself?

"Good afternoon, Headmaster." Severus closed the door and smiled in Albus' general direction before launching into, "Unfortunately, Potter has proved once again that he is _useless_ at anything - if he just closed his mind, he would stop having visions - the Dark Lord is planting them for fun now, and I worry how much he has seen of Potter's mind." Severus paused mid-rant. "Albus? Are you all right?"

Albus, struck by the sound of Severus's voice and realising this was the voice of his son, a voice he had missed hearing words that should have been so important - his first word, his first full sentence, the first time he said 'father' or perhaps 'dad' - Albus wasn't sure which he preferred - the first time he had spoken in school or answered a question in class or spoken to a girl who may have been more important than a friend - Albus could not move. He could not turn to face Severus because he was still crying silently, and he would not face Severus because he would have to tell him the truth and he could not do that.

"Headmaster?" Severus moved closer, leaning on the desk, "What is it? Has something happened?"

Albus swallowed and looked heavenward, hoping the air would dry his tears and he would be able to talk to Severus reasonably. He made sure his voice was level, "Fine, Severus, just contemplating. What were you saying about Harry?"

A pause. Then Severus had moved around the desk, "And now I know there is something wrong because never in five years have you asked me to talk about Potter. Albus - what is it - you are worrying me." When he received no answer, Severus pressed a hand to Albus' shoulder and Albus half jumped, half flinched. Severus pulled away - "Did I hurt you?"

Albus turned and looked at Severus' hand, still hovering a few inches from his forearm. Long fingers that had several scars but were also so talented at their work - when was the first time Severus had expressed an interest in Potions? Who had been there to encourage him? Who had bought him his first book, what was it, had he enjoyed it? When was the first time he had picked up a quill - had he stained his fingers with ink and been bemused, leaving smudges over his parchment? When was the first time these fingers had held someone else's, felt the morning dew or thrown snow in a preadolescent snowball fight or picked flowers or stroked an animal….

"Albus." Severus broke through his haze, "What is it?" His eyes fell on the blanket in Albus' hand, and he withdrew slightly, "Did you find him?"

Albus stared at Severus, those eyes he knew so well, seeing anticipation and wanting to tell him but seemingly unable to do so. He swallowed and steadied himself. He prepared to lie to his son. "No."

Severus' face visibly fell, "Oh. I was so sure she would know - I am so sorry, Albus - but we can keep trying." He reached out and touched Albus' shoulder. "I promise that we will find him, Albus. I promise." He half smiled, "Wouldn't it be funny if it was someone you already knew? Shame it wasn't fifteen years ago, then it could be your precious Potter." He backtracked when any remaining colour disappeared from Albus' face, "Sorry. It was a joke."

Albus tried to smile too and brushed a hand against Severus' cheek, "Ah. What would I do without you, Severus, my dear chi-" He choked on the world child, "My dear."

Severus smirked, "I am sure you would find a way, Headmaster. I am not that important after all."

Albus was about to contradict him, to tell him that Severus was the most important person in his life - but he stopped when Severus suddenly recoiled. "He calls - again - he is impatient at the moment. I have to go, Albus."

Noncomprehending, Albus stared at him.

"The Dark Lord." Severus prompted.

Albus shook his head, "You can't."

Severus stared at him, "What do you mean, I can't? I have to - Albus - it's only the Dark Lord, it's not like he is a maniac who could kill me depending on his temperament and whether or not I breathe out of time…"

Albus clutched Severus' arm, "You can't." He repeated, and his voice had turned more fervent.

Severus pulled his arm away, "I will be back by nightfall." He started toward the door.

Albus took a step forward to follow him, "Severus. I lied. I found him. I found my son."

This stopped Severus in his tracks and he turned, "Why would you lie?"

"I don't know how to tell him, Severus - I don't know how to tell him what a terrible person his father is…"

Severus turned to fully face Albus, "Albus, you are a very good person - you know that - one of the best - he would be proud to have you as his father - can we discuss this when I return?" He was leaving again.

"No! Don't you see?" Tears again in his voice, "You can't go!"

Wincing when his arm stung again, Severus neared the desk, "Albus." He shook his head in disbelief and misunderstanding, "What is the matter?"

"The matter?" Albus snapped. His voice became a shout and his tears tore strips from his words, "Look at this? This is the blanket that my child was wrapped in when he was only a few hours old. It's yours." He threw it at Severus, ripping open the drawer in his desk and pulling out handfuls of envelopes, "See these? Letters - birthday cards, first day of school, his Sorting, letters I wrote to my son and I never thought I would deliver - and it would have made more sense had I written 'dear Severus at the top'." He sobbed, "Do you see, now? Do you see? I am forcing my son to go to Lord Voldemort, I betrayed him when he was a child, turned away from him - here - the necklace that I gave to him, here is the missing piece." He pulled out the red crystal and laid it on the desk for Severus to see, "The last piece of the lion - all I ever wanted was my son to grow up happy and protected with me and I have not been able to give that to him, either. You cannot go to Lord Voldemort - I forbid it - I will not risk losing you." He broke off and finally raised his eyes to Severus.

Severus took a step back, picking the blanket up from the floor. There was something very unfamiliar on his face that Albus could not place. He put the blanket on the desk and without another word, left the office, the door slamming behind him and rattling on its hinges.

Albus sank down into his chair and pulled the blanket close and let his head fall back into his hands, sobs choking his throat and the tears running into his beard and filling his mouth with salt.

* * *

><p><em>Whoa. That was hard. But SO MUCH FUN. Wonder where Severus has gone…uh-oh….<em>

_~ SS19_


	10. Chapter 10

**Bumblebee Blood**

_This one is definitely one of my favourites! I like the conflict in this one, which I imagine is about to become very interesting indeed. Thanks to my friend Impy who gave me the advice on how to end this chapter - I was really struggling! ~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten:<strong>

"Your most esteemed Professor-Headship." Peeves the poltergeist practically catapulted into Albus' office, startling and thus affronting Fawkes who squawked and took off from his perch. Albus, sat in his armchair by the fire, turned tired eyes to Peeves. "Peeves."

"Snivellus is back in his office!" Peeves sang delightedly, "Snivellus and his…"

Albus cut him off with a glare, "Enough, Peeves. Go and wreak havoc elsewhere."

Being a poltergeist, Peeves did not understand sarcasm and took this to be a literal command, taking off again and disappearing through the wall. Albus stood a moment later, picking up the box from his desk. Fawkes cawed at him, and he glanced in the phoenix's direction, "Do not tell me to calm down, Fawkes. If he has gone where I think he has been, then I have every right to be angry."

* * *

><p>"How dare you?"<p>

The voice made Severus jump and whirl, as if he had been caught doing something he should not have been. Blood spurted from his leg once again and he growled something in Albus' direction, angry at the interruption and the disturbance. "Leave me alone."

Albus did not seem to be in a particularly accommodating mood, "I do not know why I bother with you, sometimes, Severus." His voice was shaking slightly, angry beyond belief, staring at Severus who was attempting to bind the wound in his thigh. "You continually push me over and past my boundaries - you always find a way to cross the line."

"Do not lecture me, Dumbledore." Severus spat in response, "I have no desire to speak with you."

"That's a shame Severus, because we are having this conversation, whether you have the desire to or not." Albus answered.

"I do _not _wish to speak to you!" Severus shouted, putting his leg down and wincing as weight fell on the injury. He stormed off in the direction of his bedroom, but Albus simply raised a hand and the door slammed shut before Severus could reach it. Severus, having done too much, too quickly, staggered and fell against the wall, eyes closed as he pressed one hand to his thigh. "Please, Headmaster - leave me be."

"I can't." Albus breathed, "I can't let you do this any more."

"Do what?" Severus raised his head, "My duty? My job? Nothing has changed."

"Everything has changed!" Albus took a step forward, slightly alarmed when Severus flinched away, "Severus, this is just as hard for me to accept as it is for you, and I wish you would - "

"Accept what?" Severus interrupted, "That you and I happen to be related? That you gave me away? Someone is playing a very sick practical joke on you, Dumbledore. Look at me, and look at you - there's your truth. Even if it was true, it wouldn't make you my father - I already have one of those."

"Your mother told me that you and he hardly speak." Albus murmured, and Severus glared at him, "Interrogating her on her death bed, were you?"

Startled at the venom in those words, Albus winced, "You know that is not true. I found out when I went to St Mungo's. The only person who would know your true identity would be your mother. She told me that you were adopted - she had a stillborn child - they gave her you, as I asked, to keep you safe…"

"Fine job that did." Severus responded, and Albus looked at him, "Pardon? What does that mean?"

Severus turned away, "I don't believe you."

_"Severus!_ Do you think _I_ wanted this? Do you think I wanted our whole relationship - more than that - our whole world - to be changed? I didn't ask for this!" Albus folded his arms, returning to the initial conversation, "I asked you not to go to Voldemort."

"What was I supposed to do instead, Headmaster? Go to my room, like a good little boy? Risk detection? If he finds out what I am, he will destroy me. I think that my life is inconsequential compared to the fate of the Wizarding World."

"…Not to me. Not anymore." Albus whispered.

Severus turned to face him. "What?"

"Severus - don't you see? This changes everything! How can I possibly send you to Voldemort now, knowing what you are! You are my child!"

"It was fine for you to send me to him last week - just because you have found out that the blood the Dark Lord spills is yours - that suddenly makes what he does to me wrong?" Severus shook his head, "Your morals in this are wrong."

Albus wandered to Severus' desk and tentatively rearranged the documents there, making sure they were straight, "I know. I've been telling myself the same things and it hurts, Severus. No one should treat you the way you are treated by me, and please do not think I have not felt guilty before. But now I have an excuse, Severus - I have an excuse, a reason to make sure you do not have to face him again - you are my child, and that means I do not want you to leave this castle."

"So the fact that you profess to love me was not enough of a reason before?" Severus murmured.

Hurt, Albus looked up, "Do not use my feelings for you as a weapon, Severus - that is unfair."

"You, Albus Dumbledore, are a mass of paradoxes. You tell me you love me, and then you would still send me to the Dark Lord. You tell me now that I am your son, and I am not allowed to leave the castle - even though the war has turned more deadly and I am the only person who can help to stop him - do you think I will believe you are being unselfish? You, Dumbledore, are the most selfish man I have met - you would sacrifice the end of this war just so the guilt of what you do to me will be relieved - yet you needed a title to be able to confirm that." Severus' voice had remained perfectly steady and controlled, as if he was reciting ingredients for a simple potion to a class. "You are correct. My father and I do not get on. He took pride in making my childhood a living hell - but he is still my father - and nothing will change that. Not even the word of my mother, something she was never able to tell me." Severus looked down at his leg, "I think you should leave, now."

Albus nodded. "Very well." He paused. "I brought you these. For the first few years, I wrote letters for him on his birthday, Christmas, that sort of thing. I never imagined I would be able to deliver them. They might be worth reading." He placed the box down on the desk and started for the door. Severus was still staring at his leg. Albus paused before leaving, "Don't go to Voldemort in such a state again. I thought I wouldn't see you again. That is what I am most afraid of, Severus. If you do not believe me, ask my Boggart. Good night."

Severus watched the door close and let out a long sigh, slumping against the wall and resting his head in his hands. This was not good. He hated this - was hating every moment of it. He groaned and limped over to his armchair, wondering how deep the injury was and contemplating sending for Poppy. Sitting down did make it feel easier. He wasn't exactly sure how he was feeling, anyway. He expected to be emotional - he had wanted to shout and scream at Dumbledore - but instead, he had felt empty and tired and numb. He didn't want to have to deal with this, and perhaps if he ignored it, it would go away. The whole thing - Albus, his paternity, the memories of his own father - he wished he could turn back the clock, wished he had never given that list to Albus, wished Albus had not spoken to him at all. He was not Albus' son - he couldn't be - he scratched a mark on the armchair distractedly. Albus had always said he thought they were connected beyond just a mutual enemy. Was it really just last week when they had been picnicking together out in the Hogwarts grounds? Laughing and joking and mock insulting? Where was that now?

He raised his head and looked at the box on the table. He really did not want to read them. So why did they seem so tempting? He turned his head defiantly away - yet it was as if the letters were whispering to him. Letter for a child Albus had never known. Severus had to admit - he was curious. Why had Albus decided to write letters to a child he, by all intents and purposes, wanted to forget about?

Curiosity did, after all, kill the cat. He summoned the box with his wand and pulled off the lid.


	11. Chapter 11

**Bumblebee Blood**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven:<strong>

_My son,_

_Today is your first birthday - January 1__st__. I considered celebrating, finding a birthday cake and lighting one candle as they do in Muggle homes. I thought you my like that. I was walking through Diagon Alley yesterday, before the celebrations for the New Year, and there was a mother with her newborn child, wrapped up warm against the cold. I stopped to talk to them, I do not know why - she recognised me, of course, but I was more taken with the child. He had blue eyes, you see. Like you. I asked to hold him, and she let me - while I was rocking him against my chest, she told me that I would make a natural father, and asked if I had any children. I lied to her - I told her I did not - and she thought no further of it. It was hard to give the baby back to her, my dearest - to hear her murmur his name and watch her give him a hug - I walked away. _

_Happy birthday, my son. Happy birthday, wherever you are. Know that, even if I lie to those around me, you are always a part of my life. I will never forget you. How could I forget you?_

_Love, always._

_Your father._

* * *

><p>"Would you shut it up?"<p>

"I don't know how, Toby - please, don't shout, you will keep Severus awake longer. Perhaps he is ill!"

"Ill? He looks sickly and weak - he needs some strength - "

"Toby! He is only one! Do not raise your hand to him - "

"You will not disobey me, woman!"

Severus, confused by the shouting and the crying, continued to wail, imprisoned in a cot that was too small, and so very cold.

* * *

><p><em>My dearest son,<em>

_I realise that this is not your first Christmas, but in some ways, I suppose it will be the first that you remember. Three years old, four next week. Christmas at Hogwarts is always very magnificent and homely - you should see the Christmas trees, my son, they stand metres above, like giants, dressed in green and flickering candles. There is also, always, much merriment and the exchanging of gifts between the students and the staff. I took a moment, this year, to think about you more than I usually do. I was tempted, when Christmas shopping, by a blanket in red and gold I would think would suit you, perfectly. It would keep you warm during those winter nights, and although I am sure you are well looked after, another blanket never hurts, I find! Or a pair of socks. I do hope they look after you, my son - you are so very precious. One day, maybe, we will be reunited and I can explain that to you myself - you mean so much to me. _

_Happy Christmas - I hope that the Muggle legend brings you lots of wonderful things._

_Love, always._

_Your father._

* * *

><p>Standing in the corner, face to the wall, hands clasped before him.<p>

He was trying very hard not to cry, but the belt hurt across his back.

The room was cold and dark and bare, the plasterboard chipped and the skirting boards scratched.

The curtains were open so the breeze could penetrate, and he was shivering.

Waiting for that call, the harsh shout of his name.

He wanted to wrap his arms tighter around himself, but that would lead to a harder beating.

He just wanted to sleep.

"Severus! Come here, you little brat!"

* * *

><p><em>My dearest,<em>

_I imagine you have started Muggle school. Minerva informs me it is around the age of five, so I cannot be far wrong. I am trying to imagine what you would look like now, in a Muggle uniform like the picture she showed me. Not that I have told her about you, of course, although I believe she suspects - I was simply showing interest in the English part of her family. You would still be so small, with such a long path ahead of you. So much to learn and to see and to do, and I wish I was there with you, to help you and guide you. I imagine your adoptive father does that, though. And I hope your mother picks you up when you fall down, and makes sure it does not hurt too much. Study hard, my dear - you have great things ahead of you, this I know well. You have powerful wizard blood in those veins, and one day, we will meet and I can show you where you have come from - and what you have left to do._

_I love you._

_Always._

_Your father._

* * *

><p>They were laughing at him.<p>

His clothes. His shirt was too long, and his shorts were too short.

There were bruises on his shins and his knees were badly cut.

They had pushed him over.

He looked down at the grit in his palm and felt his eyes burn.

He would not cry here, he would not let himself show that weakness.

But they were still laughing at him.

"He smells funny!"

"Look at his scabs!"

"He is the poor kid - his Dad beats him."

"Look at him, all snotty and crying!"

And they walked away and left him stood in the cold, with blood running down his knees and traitorous tears running down his cheeks.

* * *

><p><em>My son,<em>

_Happy tenth birthday. Ten years, a decade since you were born, a decade since I last saw you. A decade since I held you in my arms and heard your heart beating and felt your breath on my cheek - and I miss you, still, in the darkest of the darkest nights and in the quietest of the quietest moments. My memory lingers on you, so small - and I have thought, more than once these past few weeks, to try to find you. But to what end? I refuse to confuse you and tear you away from the family that you have only just started know . I have no right, I gave you away, I was not brave enough to face the consequences. He would use you as a weapon, my child, this you have to understand. He would find some way to take you from me, and I could not bear that. I would not place you in that sort of danger. You must believe me when I say that I only did this, I only caused this pain, to keep you safe._

_Happy birthday, my son. I hope that you receive all that you have asked for, and know that if you were here with me, I would have a cake, and candles, and several brightly wrapped packages to open - just for you. But you will receive that, anyway - you have no need for me._

_I still love you. I will always love you._

_Your father._

* * *

><p>It was his birthday, today.<p>

The curled fist pounded into his stomach and he coughed and spluttered and staggered forward, to be jerked back by his collar.

He was ten years old, today.

The sound of the belt being undone.

He had wished, upon a star, for a present, or something. Perhaps another blanket for his bed.

His shirt being torn - yet again - he had no clothes to wear to school, now.

He closed his eyes and he imagined a cake with candles and several brightly wrapped packages for him to open.

The belt tearing skin and making him wince.

Just for him.

* * *

><p><em>My dearest, and most precious son,<em>

_This will be my final letter. It is too painful, and I shall never pass them to you. You would be thirteen now, practically an adult. I wonder if you have come to Hogwarts - I search the eyes of the Gryffindor students, looking for you - a hint, of you, with those blue eyes. Ravenclaw, perhaps? I expect you would be intelligent. Before you were born, I had a dream of putting a red and gold tie around your neck, and seeing the emblem of the lion on your robes - that was my aspiration for you, my child - to see you become what you should be. Wherever you are, I am sure you are happy and safe and…that is all that matters to me._

_Know, in your heart, that I love you - and if our paths should cross, I am sure I will know it instantly. Perhaps you will feel it, too? They say the bond between a parent and a child is stronger than any._

_Love, and a hug for strength and protection, always._

_Albus._

* * *

><p>"Look who it is!"<p>

"Snivellus! Hey, Snivellus! What do you have on under your trousers, Snivellus?"

"Would you like a cloth for your dirty nose, Snivellus?"

"Shut up! Leave me alone, or I will hex you!"

"Now, now, Mister Snape - there is no need for that. Put your wand away, and a point from Slytherin. Run along now, boys."

"Yes, Headmaster."

Blue eyes boring into his black, as something akin to a smirk twisted his young mouth and he turned away, thinking only the most terrible things, waiting for them to befall Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

><p>Severus folded the last letter back into a smaller square and placed it on the desk before him, not entirely sure how to feel. The letters were soft and genuine and he believed that Albus really did care for the boy he had once held in his arms. But that child was not him - he was different, corrupted, dirty and most of all, worthless. He was a spy, he did so to atone for his sins, and he could not believe that Albus would want him, even now. What a disappointment he had to be, Severus, now - a Death-Eater, a murderer…he stood and stared into the fireplace dejectedly. When he had been a child, he had dreamed of someone who might be able to take him away from everything that had happened.<p>

He exhaled slowly, raising his head. He would talk to Albus. He would talk this through, and whatever conclusion they came to would suit them both. He started toward the hallway, picking the letters up and tucking them into his pocket.

He was halfway across the Entrance Hall, nearly at the stairs, when his left arm burnt.


	12. Chapter 12

**Bumblebee Blood**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve:<strong>

Severus bowed deeply before the Dark Lord, waiting for the soft bidding before raising his head. Lord Voldemort was seated before him, safely ensconced in his ivory throne, watching Severus with a distinctly impassive expression. "Good evening, Severus."

"My Lord." Severus answered softly, aware it had been not long since they had last met - and that he was alone, which generally was either a very good thing or a very bad thing, and he was unable to judge the Dark Lord's facial expression or tone of voice. One could not know the mood of the Dark Lord until he revealed it, after all. "How can I serve you, my Lord?"

Voldemort raised himself to his feet, still examining Severus. "In our last meeting you seemed - distracted."

Severus kept his gaze on the Dark Lord's, "I apologise, my Lord."

"Where was your mind, if it was not with me, and my words?" Voldemort continued, and Severus could detect danger in those quiet syllables. This, as with everything else at the moment, was a test - and if he should fail, it would be with his life that would pay the price. "I was concentrating, my Lord. I did not mean to exhibit impassiveness, if that is what has offended you."

"Not offended, no. Intrigued and incited my curiosity, yes. It is most unlike you to be distracted Severus, and you must forgive me but I believe the reasoning is important. Are you quite sure that you were not contemplating other things?"

Severus was replaying the last meeting in his mind, wondering if the Dark Lord was alluding to something he had seen, rather than something he suspected - Severus had been contemplating the revelation that he and Albus were related, and if the Dark Lord were to ever know that information - the movement was involuntary, and he knew the moment he had done so, it was foolish - but he moved one hand to his pocket where the letters Albus had given him were hidden. That did not escape the Dark Lord, who continued to contemplate him - "Severus, you are hiding something from me." He crossed the gap between them and reached out - to grasp Severus' wrist. He drew back the sleeve and examined the mark on Severus' pale skin, "When one is bearing this mark, it is probably best to let the Dark Lord know all of your secrets, Severus. I suspect you of betrayal - and I am sure that you know what the price of betrayal could be."

"I am loyal to you, and you only, my Lord. You know that well." Severus allowed a little vehemence to filter into his tone - anything to convince the Dark Lord of his unwavering support. Voldemort smiled mirthlessly and nodded, "We shall see." Keeping a hold of Severus' wrist, he brushed his hand against the pocket in Severus' robes and they both heard the rustle of parchment. Severus tried not to let the anxiety show on his face, and instead acquiesced when Voldemort pulled the letters from his robes. He raised his head as Voldemort attempted to judge Severus' reaction before pulling away, "And what are these? Something of importance?"

Severus did not respond. Responding with something nonchalant would be as dangerous as reacting as if these pieces of parchment did mean something - and the Dark Lord would read them anyway. He watched as Voldemort unfolded the first letter and scanned the words with interest, glancing toward Severus partway through and then returning his eyes to the writing. "Who gave you these, Severus? Was it Dumbledore?"

Lying was not a possibility. "It was, my Lord."

"Confirm if I am understanding this situation correctly. Albus Dumbledore has a _son_?"

Severus swallowed, "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort processed this information with a gleeful smirk, "How very interesting." The expression changed when his eyes returned to Severus, "And why, pray tell, are you in possession of these letters?"

Severus hesitated before responding. "He has asked me to find him, my Lord. He wishes to make contact with his child once again."

"Indeed?" Voldemort considered. "Why did you not bring this to me immediately?"

"My Lord, I did not see the relevance or the importance - the child may not even be alive - he is of no importance - "

"Do not tell me what is and what is not of importance here, Severus." The Dark Lord's tone had hardened. He moved closer to Severus, "When you find this child, you will bring him to me." He reached out and brushed his finger quickly against Severus' cheek. "When you find him, and bring him to me, I will know that I can trust you completely." He placed careful emphasis on the words and Severus understood what it meant - "What if the child is dead?"

"Then you can bring me Albus Dumbledore, Severus. Whichever you prefer. You may leave." As Severus bowed and turned to go, Voldemort spoke again, "Do not fail me, Severus. I would remind you that you cannot hide from Lord Voldemort. Either bring me Dumbledore, or his child." A pause. "_Whomever it may be…_"


	13. Chapter 13

**Bumblebee Blood**

_Okay, so here we go people. Chapter Thirteen of Bumblebee Blood, marked in my notes as a monumental chapter as Albus and Severus face each other after certain revelations have rocked both their worlds (and not in a good way, either). I have done very little planning for this chapter as I wanted it to feel raw and emotional and I have the destination written on paper in front of me - but no directions as how to get there. Let's see what happens, shall we? ~ SS19_

_PS - I know many of you are waiting for an update for 'Tricks of the Mind' - for whatever reason, that story just will not behave and write itself. It is about as disobedient as Severus, really. I am working on it though._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13:<strong>

He took in a deep breath, raised his fist and tapped his knuckles against the wooden door. There was a pause, and then a weary, "Come in." He lowered his fingers to the door handle, turned once and pushed the door open. "Headmaster?"

Albus looked up and across the room at him, "Severus." He was seated behind his desk, book in hand and a fire roaring in the hearth. Fawkes was perched beside him, and the black eyes of the phoenix were suddenly focused on Severus, lingering in the doorway. "Can we - can we talk, Headmaster?" Severus asked quietly, expecting to be shooed away or asked to leave. But instead, Albus stood and nodded, "I'd like that. Come in. Would you like a seat?"

Severus did come in and closed the door but remained close to it, leaning on the wall. "I would rather stand." He answered. Albus accepted this, "Forgive me if I sit. I am tired."

Severus twisted his hands together in front of him for a moment, not sure where to start or even what he wanted to say. He just wanted to be here, some part of him had been desperate to look at Albus because he thought that might help him. Instead, it had thrown him back into confusion - he was looking at this man who was, to all intents and purposes, a father-like figure and certainly a mentor - but the idea that they shared blood and family ties was just too much for him to believe. "I…I read your letters." He said, after a moment.

"Did they help at all?" Albus prompted, and it seemed he was uncomfortable too.

"I could understand a little more - but -" The correct answer was no they had not helped, but Severus was not about to say that. Not now - he wanted to find a way to forge a truce. "What did you think, when you found out?"

"That you were mine?" Albus finished the sentence with the important information and considered his answer carefully. "Surprised - and a little frightened. But there was a part of me, somewhere, which whispered that it was true. I wanted to disbelieve it, but I couldn't."

Severus nodded and clasped his hands together to cease his twisting of fingers. "And now?" His voice trembled slightly.

"Now? I am not sure how I feel now, if I am honest with you Severus. Part of me would like to investigate what this could mean for us, and part of me wishes to deny it, and part of me wishes I had never found out at all. Part of me hates the very idea of you being my child simply for the positions that we both hold. And..part of me is waiting to hear what you think."

"I do not know what to think, Headmaster. I really - I don't know how to rationalise what you have told me and I certainly do not know the right way to react to it." Severus looked down at his hands. Albus considered him, "I doubt this is a matter of right and wrong, Severus.. I want to know what your heart thinks, not what your head believes is right. I want to know where you would like this to go - as much as you would like the same information from me." There was very little emotion in Albus' tone and Severus was struggling to read it. He raised his gaze, "I'm a little angry."

"Tell me why you are angry."

"Because after all this time and desperately seeking a father figure, I had found one in you - and now I risk losing all that. I am angry because if you had not given me away, I would never have been - things would have been different. I am angry that someone thought this would be funny, to tie our fates and our destinies together in such a way."

"All very acceptable. What else?"

"I am worried - I am worried that this will change things, for both of us. You will not be able to send me to the Dark Lord without feeling guilty and I will not be able to look at you without feeling something else, something different, something I had never considered before. I am worried that it compromises both our positions - we are both in so much danger, Headmaster. Losing you knowing you were a very dear friend and a mentor is hard enough to know how to comprehend but should I lose you now knowing that you are also my - " He could not bring himself to say the word, "It would be unbearable." He hesitated, "But at the same time - I am - I feel -" He was struggling to put the emotions into words. "I feel as if - it might be - right. Acceptable. Correct. You are after all - everything I looked for - in a fath-" He broke off again and turned away because he was alarmed to feel tears in his eyes and he would not show that weakness to Albus.

Albus waited a moment before speaking. "Let me tell you how I feel, Severus. I feel angry, too. I feel as if, in some way, I have been cheated. I had these glorious and foolish plans for a reunion with my child - and I feel as if those have been stolen away because I had to look at you and admit the truth in such an emotional and unfortunate way. I am angry - very angry - because I gave the child away to protect him from Lord Voldemort and now I discover that for the last year I have been placing into Voldemort's path with no due concern or protection. I am also frightened - I am terribly frightened, Severus, because I now fear losing you more than ever and I fear that you will not want anything further to do with me when you realise what I have been asking you to do. But I am, also, pleased - because I am proud of you Severus, and you are incredibly important to me. I do consider you a son, and I do want to protect you - so in that respect, nothing has changed. I just - I don't know how to comprehend the fact that the child I held in my arms is you."

Severus bit his lip uncomfortably. "What do you want to do then, Headmaster?" He needed direction, he needed telling what to do - his own simplistic understanding of emotions meant he was almost drowning in painful confusion - and he certainly did not know where to turn now. "Do you - do you want me to go - or - "

"No." Albus interrupted. "I want you to sit down. I want to sit next to you and see if we can reach an acceptable outcome to this situation - not as father and son, if that is what we choose - but at least as friends, who, two weeks ago were incredibly close and laughing and joking on the hillside outside Hogwarts. That is what I worry most of all, Severus - that we will lose everything like that."

Severus turned to face him fully, "I am worried about that too."

"So sit next to me, and let us try." Albus moved to the sofa and sat at one end, waiting to see how Severus reacted. The younger man crossed to him and lowered himself to the sofa, but there was a noticeable difference between them.

"Severus, I am worried about asking you to continue to spy. I have to say that. You are correct - it is selfish of me to say this now when there is just a different title assigned to you - but it does change things. I know that is different for you to comprehend but I look at you, now, and I see someone different. I see that child, Severus, in my arms. I can't do this to you - I can't do it to him. You are now the same person and in my head that is conjuring the most terrible of images. You have no idea of the nightmares inside my mind - I have to beg you to stop."

"I can't." Severus responded. "I can't stop spying on him - because if I do - where does that leave you? You have always placed the war as more important than any of your other commitments - and that includes me. No one would fault you for that…"

"I fault me for that!" Albus stood abruptly and turned away from Severus. "This has knocked my whole perspective out of balance, Severus. I know not how to carry on, now. When you were nothing more than an idea - I considered leaving the war and resigning, taking you away from everything - but I made the decision not to. Now I find myself weaved in this web and I find you trapped too - perhaps more so than I." He glanced at Severus, eyes damp, "How can you sit and be so reasonable about this?"

"I have had much time to think, Headmaster."

"You are braver than I. Severus, I know how much Lord Voldemort terrifies you - see, you flinch even now when I say his name - how can I, as your parent, send you to him knowing that he terrifies you and he hurts you and he treats you so terribly? How can I do that?"

"Because - because you are not my parent." Severus murmured, and Albus stared at him, "Pardon?" Severus looked up at him, "You are not…that. If it helps you, you are not my -" He still struggled with the word. "I do not want another father, Headmaster. I do not need parents."

Despite himself, Albus half-smiled, "Oh, but you do. You need someone willing to stand up for you, someone who will love you unconditionally - no matter what you are."

Something in his final words seemed to strike a chord within Severus and cause some terrible impact, because suddenly the boy was on his feet, "And then there is that - how could you even want me as your son? Look at me - I am a Death-Eater, someone who takes pride in hurting others, someone who has the mark of the Dark Lord burned into his arm. You cannot be proud of that, associating that with your name. I am a murderer, Headmaster. That Muggle - how does that make you feel - to know that I could be that? How could you possibly want me after that?"

As per usual, Albus could not stand the self-hatred in Severus' tone, "Stop that talk - we have spoken about this - "

"I do not just mean that night, Albus - what about the mistakes I made when I was a child - I'm a Slytherin, I chose to go to the Dark Lord, I was a prisoner in Azkaban on trial for torturing others - you tell me you have forgiven me for those things, but how could you want that tied to your name?"

Albus held up a hand, "Severus - you are not the only one with a scratched slate - there are others of us too who have actions that we regret. I do not care what you were - all that matters to me is what you are now. I care for you - for your past, your present and whatever future you there will be. That would not change whether you were my son or not. I admit, it took me time to come to terms with it - but that is only because it is you. It is still _you_. That is why I do not want you to go to Voldemort. Because it is you, Severus, and you mean so much to me."

"Albus. I will not do that. I cannot. I must return to him, and I am sorry for that - I truly am. Nothing you can say will change my mind on that." Severus' tone was suddenly almost cold and certainly firm. His eyes met Albus' and held them, "I will destroy him - for what he has done to me and countless others. You cannot stop me."

Albus crossed back to the sofa and invited Severus to do the same. He waited until his companion was sat beside him before tentatively reaching out and taking his hand. He measured their fingers together for a moment, noting the similar length and thinness. It was Severus who moved his hand slightly - not to pull away - but so his fingers could slot into the gaps between Albus'. Their hands interlinked, Albus looked back to Severus. "I don't know how we learn to deal with this, my boy. I don't want it means for us now or in the future. All I know is - I don't want to lose you."

Severus nodded. "I do not wish to lose you, either."

"I say that we leave it there for tonight, what do you think? Far too much emotion, it makes us melodramatic. Did you want something to eat, perhaps?" Albus was about to stand when Severus tightened his fingers. Albus looked into his eyes, "Was there something else you wanted to tell me?"

Severus stared at him, and was silent for a long moment. Albus watched him, "Severus?"

"I -" He wanted to tell him - he wanted to explain what had happened - but he couldn't. He couldn't say that - not now - he would deal with the Dark Lord himself. "No. Nothing." And although he was sure Albus knew he was lying, he dropped Albus' hand from his.

* * *

><p><em>To those of you starting to panic - we are nowhere near finished yet, and I stand by promises I made in the earlier chapters...<em>


	14. Chapter 14

**Bumblebee Blood**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

"Ah, if it isn't my two favourite customers!" Katarina Lox was the owner of the small and rather intimate restaurant on a practically forgotten Muggle London street. The restaurant served perfectly good food and the owner was incredibly friendly - and so well known to her two latest visitors that she was rewarded with a beaming smile from Albus and half a smile from Severus. "Hello, Katarina. How is business?"

"Simply smashing, my dear Albus. Come, come, I suppose you would like your usual table?" She waved them into the restaurant, closing the door behind them. "Is this a special occasion?" She asked of Albus, as Severus started undoing his travelling cloak. "No, no, just passing through and I thought we should eat."

Katarina smiled at Albus, "Any further thought to what I said the last time you were here?"

Albus mock-glared in her direction, "Katarina. You know what I told you - if Severus ever heard you say such a thing -" It was also, now, biologically immoral but Albus left those details out. Instead, Katarina simply raised her eyebrows as she examined Severus, "Looks like he needs it - poor boy looks thinner and paler every time I see him." She laughed wickedly and Albus couldn't help chuckling too - he did like her sense of humour, and the bewildered expression on Severus' face. "Now, let me remember. Red wine, Merlot, 1945? On the house!" She brandished menus at the two wizards and then disappeared off to the kitchen. Severus stared after her, "That woman is exactly like you, Albus." He shook his head, bemused, opened the menu and started to read. Albus smiled at this practice, "Severus. Every time we come here, you open the menu, read it for ten minutes and then say, "I'll have the same as always"…"

"No point in changing habits, Albus. Now, be quiet a moment, I am contemplating what I fancy to eat." Severus' brow furrowed and Albus acquiesced to the younger man's request, perusing the menu himself. This was a stroke of genius, he thought, on his part. He had invited Severus to dinner at their favourite and most regular restaurant, a tradition between them that had slowly passed into being a cornerstone of their friendship. It was normal for birthdays and Christmas, but Albus thought perhaps - by bringing Severus here - they could try to find some normality in their relationship. He was pleased that Severus had accepted. "Chosen, yet?"

Before Severus could answer, Katarina was back, depositing two glasses onto the table in front of them and sloshing the red wine into the receptacles. She grinned brightly at them both, before conjuring a pad from her apron and a pen. "So, what can I get for the gentlemen?"

Severus was still reading the menu, so Albus raised his eyebrows exasperatedly and smiled at his friend. "I will have the lobster, please, Katarina - you know it's my favourite."

Katarina nodded, "Expensive tastes as always - are you paying, then?"

Albus gestured toward Severus, "No, Severus is."

Once again, Severus' head shot up at the sound of his name, "Pardon?"

"Nothing, dear." Albus patronised, "Are we eating tonight, Severus?"

Severus, affronted now, narrowed his eyes at Albus and finally regarded Katarina. "Same as usual, please."

She smiled at him, an almost motherly gesture, "Medium rare, or would you prefer it leaping around the plate?"

Albus knew the answer to this one, too. Whenever Severus was particularly embroiled in Death-Eater gatherings, the sight of blood on a plate from steak was enough to turn his stomach. "Medium is fine." He was always more aloof when they were in public, so it was lucky that Katarina knew them both so well. "I'll leave you two to it, then." She stepped away from the table and bustled off toward the door, where a family stood. "Hello, hello, come in!"

Severus shook his head at her exuberance and returned his gaze to Albus, "A toast, then?"

"Of course." Albus picked up his glass. "What are we toasting?"

Severus didn't respond immediately. "Each…other?"

Picking up on the boy's uncertainty, Albus nodded at this. "To friends."

They clinked their glasses together, Albus sipping his wine first. "Thank you for accepting my invitation, Severus, it means a lot to me. I was not sure if you wanted to be alone."

Severus fingered the rim of his glass, "I was speaking the truth. I do not want things to change between us. Especially things like this." He gestured to the surroundings vaguely.

There was an awkward silence between them, which worried Albus. Silences between them were never awkward - they were long, yes, but comfortable and there was no desire to break them as he desperately sought something to say. "Have you been summoned recently?"

There was something in Severus' reaction, something in his eyes, something in his voice when he said, "No", that struck Albus as odd. "Are you quite sure, my boy?"

"And I would be unsure of that because?" Severus' reaction was vicious and sharp and Albus drew his hand back with a frown, "Severus." He pacified, "I did not mean to cause any offence…"

Rather than apologising immediately as he would normally do, Severus instead took a mouthful of his wine and stared bleakly out the window. Albus watched him, "You do know that you cannot lie to me, Severus?"

Severus was biting his bottom lip, before his eyes finally returned to Albus. "I am sorry. I do not know what is wrong with me, at the moment. I am snapping at everyone - including you."

Albus twinkled, "No change there then, my boy." He examined Severus more closely, "But, Severus - you do know that you can tell me anything? If there is something troubling you, I am here - I will always be here to help you." Severus simply stared at him, his gaze intense and it made Albus feel uncomfortable. "Talk to me, Severus. Tell me."

Severus shook his head, "It is nothing - and unimportant at the moment. Let us speak of something else. Something less - dramatic." Severus was tired, Albus could tell. He wanted to change the subject so that he could stop focusing so much on controlling his emotions. Something about this saddened Albus - he wanted Severus to be able to show Albus anything and tell Albus everything - but still, Severus did not trust him enough for that. Something must have showed on his face, because the ever perceptive Severus leaned forward, "Albus. I trust you. I am just uneasy about revealing my true self. That is all."

"But you should be able to talk to me - you should not bottle everything up, it will destroy you." Albus looked away, "I wanted to be able to help you."

"You do! You do help me, it's just I cannot trust those in authority - not after my father - it's just the way I am." Severus was trying desperately hard to make Albus feel better, "Please. Know that out of everyone in my life, I trust you the most…Albus?"

Albus was staring at him. "Why didn't you trust your father?"

Severus winced and drew back, "I did not say that."

"You said - you cannot trust people in _authority_ because of your father. What does that mean?" Albus persisted, and did not relent even when Severus appeared very uncomfortable. "Tell me."

In very uncharacteristic behaviour which shocked Albus, Severus tried to laugh it off - and failed miserably, too. Albus hardened his tone and leaned forward, "Severus."

Like a shot, Severus was on his feet. "I need the bathroom." With those words, he was gone - leaving Albus to stare at him, utterly bewildered. He was interrupted by Katarina, bringing over some bread. "Everything all right?"

Albus shook his head with a sigh, "I don't know." He looked up at Katarina, "We both received some news, a few days ago. It's - rather life changing."

Concern crossed the owner's face, "What sort of news? Bad news?"

"No. It should be good news, but of course - Severus and I - I don't know what to do next. He's withdrawing from me, and I can feel it. He's closing himself off, something he has not done for so long now - he's hiding something from me - I thought by bringing him here, I might be able to convince him to talk to me. Instead, we are arguing and he is now hiding in the toilets." He stroked his beard dejectedly. Katarina paused, before resting one hand on Albus' shoulder. "Listen. I've known you and Severus a long time. You've argued before, and somehow you always manage to work it out. I've never met such a - dynamic - partnership." She smiled at Albus and he returned the expression faintly, "Thank you." She walked away as Severus slipped back into his chair, opening his mouth to apologise. Albus cut across him, "Don't you dare apologise."

Falling back into silence, Albus chewed thoughtfully on the bread whilst gazing out of the window at the darkening summer sky. It took him moments to realised he was being scrutinised. Without glancing at Severus, he asked, "Something on your mind?"

"More than usual?" Severus responded. "I'm just thinking." His answer was lacking, but Albus chose not to push the matter any further. If Severus wanted to open up, he would. That was the privilege Albus would have to allow him. Even if he was staring across the table at his son…

"He wasn't a very nice man." Severus said suddenly. "In fact, he was quite horrible. Not to my mother. My mother was madly in love with him, and he saw that. No. He didn't like me." Severus was pulling apart a piece of bread as he talked, focusing on his fingers. "Thats all."

"How do you mean, horrible?" Albus picked up the unspoken details, and he was suddenly afraid - what did Severus mean? Still Severus didn't answer, and Albus leaned forward, "What does that mean?"

Their gazes were locked, and Albus was sure that Severus was about to say something else - when their meals arrived, and the moment was lost. Severus instantly looked away, and Albus knew then that he would never be able to get Severus in the same position again.

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><p>Considering the intensity of the early evening, the night seemed to progress quite well. Severus, mollified by good food and the wine, became rather more relaxed and although they did not touch upon topics that involved themselves or their lives, his dark humour certainly came into play and he kept Albus in near hysterics for much of the meal. Both of them, slightly tipsy after the second bottle, made their way back into Hogwarts and up to Albus' office. Still smirking at one of his jokes, Severus collapsed down onto the sofa and Albus offered him a hot chocolate. Severus shook his head, "No - I think sleep would be much more -" He was already halfway there, leaning toward unconsciousness - and sitting on the sofa, seeming so comfortable and relaxed…Albus wasn't sure what made him do it. It was a terrible crime, one he had sworn never to commit - but there he was. He watched Severus, and when Severus glanced up at him, eyes slightly unfocused, their gazes met. Albus forced himself into Severus' mind before the other could even react - there was only a strangled shout of, "Albus!"<p>

Albus pushed against the hazy mental barriers, through memories of himself and Severus - pushing further - Severus was trying to fight him, and pain threatened Albus as it reverberated through Severus. The younger man was struggling, because Albus seemed very clear-headed and focused - he knew what he was searching for - Severus was tired and he had very little strength to call upon. Finally, Albus caught the thread that he was searching for - and following it, he found himself ensconced in Severus' childhood - looking down on Severus, collapsed on the floor, already bleeding - and there was man undoing his belt -

Albus was viciously thrown from Severus' mind when his own concentration slipped - the younger man was on his feet now, clearly in pain, "How dare you?"

Albus could not quite believe what he had done either, leaning against his desk, he looked at Severus and saw fear and fury. "Severus. I - I never -"

Severus was leaning heavily off balance, and Albus realised there was something more than anger there. The other was exhausted - he leapt forward and caught Severus before he fell, pushing him onto the sofa to help him rest - and then sat back, mind spinning around a truth that seemed set in stone.

The truth that Severus - his son - was an abused child.

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><p><em>Once again, a chapter that does not sit right with SS19. I must be tired. Thank you for reading! ~ SS19<em>


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

"Severus. Severus, would you please answer me. We need to have a conversation about this. Would you please open the door?" This was not how Albus liked to spend his Sunday mornings. He seemed to be stood outside Severus' office door quite often recently. Normally he had some inkling of how best to proceed. Normally he was not the reason why Severus was in his office. Normally he would be welcome. Unfortunately, this time, he did not know how best to proceed, he was the reason why Severus would not come out, and he was certainly not welcome. He had committed a rather great sin - a violation of the trust between them - and no amount of grovelling earlier in the morning had cooled Severus' anger. "Severus, please. I was wrong and I need to apologise to you." Still no answer. "Do not make me force the door open, Severus."

"I do not see why that should worry you, Dumbledore - you seem to revel in forcing yourself into places you are not welcome to." Severus' voice was harsh and acidic, and coupled with the use of Albus' surname. "Severus…if we are going to do this, and we are going to do this, I would rather not be stood in the corridor. However, I do not wish to open your door without your permission. Allow me some dignity, Severus, please. Allow me entrance."

The door handle turned, and Albus was finally allowed to enter Severus' office. The Potions' teacher was sat behind his desk, quill in hand, marking pieces of parchment. He did not look up, he did not speak, he did not even acknowledge Albus' presence. He just continued to mark the work in front of him, parchment scratched by the quill. Albus neared him, trying to judge Severus' current state of mind. He could tell even from this distance that robust and strong mental shields were in place, and defensiveness was emanating from Severus in waves. His knuckles were white from where he was clutching his quill, and his eyes were narrowed. Albus wanted to break the tense atmosphere, "Will you be long?"

No answer.

Albus wandered over to the armchairs instead, settling himself in the one facing Severus so he could watch the younger man. "You shouldn't work for too long - it might give you a headache. How about sitting and talking with me for a while?" His tone remained as pleasant as he could manage.

Severus continued to ignore him.

"Severus. I am not leaving until you talk to me. Unless you wish me to continue chattering about inane subjects, which I am very happy to do, I would come and sit opposite me and at least let us attempt to talk through what happened last night."

Black, tired eyes looked up at him. "You are not my keeper."

Albus watched him. "Technically, I am your parent. That gives me some authority, does it not?"

Severus concentrated back on his parchment. "Not to me."

"Severus…"

"Do you know something? In all my years of being a Death-Eater, a servant of the Dark Lord, he has does many things to me. He has tortured me, humiliated me, even attempted to kill me several times - but _never _has he taken me to dinner with the sole intention of intoxicating me, and then forcing himself into my mind when he knew I was too weak to defend myself…"

"That was **_not_ **my intention when we left for the evening, and you know that, Severus. Do not think so little of me." Albus was slightly angry that Severus would even consider such a thing.

"That's how it looks from where I am standing, Headmaster. You seemed remarkably sober considering." Severus was still writing. His voice was calm.

Albus stared at him, "Do you truly believe…do you truly think I am capable of that?"

A glance in his direction. "I am not sure."

Those words, laced with uncertainty, wounded Albus more than any curse could ever try to. He looked away from Severus, wondering he was truly hurt thanks to the pain in his chest. "You think I could do that. You think I could manipulate you in such a way - you think I could set out with that intention in mind. To violate your mind. Severus, it was an accident!"

"One does not cast the Legilimens spell _accidentally_, Headmaster. There needs to be motive, there needs to be intent, and there certainly needs to be desire."

Albus got to his feet, shaking. "Very well - perhaps there was motive - to find out why you insist on hiding things from me. Intent - indeed - I intended to discover why you will not look me in the eye when you mention your adoptive father. And I desired to know so I could try to help you. Forgive me for loving you, Severus."

Severus slammed his hand onto the desk, "If you loved me, you would respect that I have some secrets that I do not wish to divulge."

"No." Albus argued. "It is because I love you - it is because you are my child - that I need to know these things!"

Severus scraped his chair back from his desk and stood. "Well then, why don't you just push yourself past my defences and find out for yourself? Clearly I am unwilling to answer your questions, perhaps you would like me to drink Veritaserum? I have some here, in fact -" He pulled open his cabinet and showed Albus the phial, "The whole bottle should work - it will make me tell my darkest secrets to you - shall I drink it now?"

"Don't be so ridiculous." Albus answered. "Put it down."

"It'll make me tell you though - how my father used to lock me in a cellar when I cried, hoping to scare it out of me. How I pretended not to exist when he was home and did not eat for days - drinking water from the attic tank. It'll tell you why, damn it, I cannot trust authority and I cannot have a father figure! Happy now? Or would you like more details? Would you like to know how many times I cried? How many stairs he pushed me down? How about the time when he used handcuffs and chained me to the radiator when it was piping hot? Still have the burn marks on my back, in fact, would you like to see them? Would you like to know how he abused every trust I placed in him, so when I look at you now, I can only see you as trying to hurt me - I cannot even accept that you may have been worried about me, and that was why you pushed into my mind - I can only see that you wanted to hurt me. Would you like to know how pathetic and humiliated and weak I felt? Would you like to know what it was like?"

Albus' forehead crumpled as he watched Severus. "Severus…I…"

"No. No, you wanted the truth - there it is - now get out."

"Severus…"

"Leave me alone." Severus' voice was shaking. "Get out."

"No. I can't - not with you like this…"

Rather than responding, Severus threw the phial of Veritaserum with a huge amount of force at Albus - followed by pushing the parchment from his desk with a shout of rage - everything from his desk, in fact. There was quite a lot of noise as various possessions hit the floor, before Severus simply glared at Albus. "You are not my father. You are nothing to me. You lost that when you destroyed the trust I had. In you. I trusted you." He walked away, leaving the mess around his desk and into his adjoining bedroom. The door was shut and locked. Albus remained where he was, looking at the ruins around the desk. He wandered closer, reaching into the splattered ink and fallen books and picking up one object. A picture frame - rather unlike Severus - and rather innocuous too. He looked at the photograph tucked within the frame and smiled unconsciously - what other photograph would Severus have - this was him and Albus on holiday together in Egypt. It was a good ten years ago now, since they had decided that the summer holidays would be a very good time to explore the ancient ruins of a pyramid and search for relics. Albus still had the scarab beetle carving on his mantlepiece upstairs. He liked this photograph because Severus was dressed for Egypt, in a pale shirt and had been wearing a hat - although that was not in the picture. Albus had gone all out with his outfit, basing it on a Muggle action hero Severus had told him about called Indiana Jones. He had one arm draped around Severus' shoulders. Both of them rather cheerful and sporting slight tans, he could almost see the resemblance.

Picture frame in hand, he crossed to the door and sat down beside it, back against the wood. He didn't know what to say. He did not know where to begin. "You should have trusted me." He stroked the picture frame gently. "I wish you had been able to trust me." He paused, "Can I do anything? Can I say anything? Would you rather I left?" He did not receive a response, so he simply took the picture from the frame and pushed it under the door. "I'll repair your frame." He stood and left the small office.

Severus stayed where he was, the other side of the door, back pressed against the wood. He looked at the photograph through eyes that stung with involuntary tears that he would not let fall. He picked it up and examined it, remembering the heat and the dust and the exhilarating discoveries - in a pique of anger that stifled his chest, he ripped the photo in half and threw it into a corner of his room, before returning his forehead to his arm.


	16. Chapter 16

_150 reviews? *Dances excitedly* I love you all! ~SS19_

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen:<strong>

Severus arrived at breakfast the next morning wearing dark black lines under his eyes and a scowl that was darker than thunder. He practically threw himself into his chair and glared at the toast as if it had offended him.

Various members of staff glanced at him but did not comment, instead continuing to talk amongst themselves. Severus decided that eating the toast was a better punishment than berating it, so chewed the dry bread and attempted to tune in to his colleagues.

"I cannot believe that a student managed to penetrate my office and look through the files!" It was rare to see Poppy angry and unsettled, and this attracted Severus' attention. He narrowed his eyes, as Minerva leaned across to interrogate her further. "A student looked at your files?"

Poppy nodded, "Yes - but it's peculiar - it was only old files. I have yet to work out which one was taken." She looked toward Severus, who was showing more interest in the conversation. "It's not even complete medical records, as I keep anything recent separate. It would be from a while ago. I will need to complete a full inventory to find out which files - if any - have been taken."

Severus raised an eyebrow, "Perhaps your security is inadequate?"

Minerva glanced at him, "Just because your office is about as impossible to access as Sybil's prophecies are to believe, Severus, does not mean we are all quite so paranoid."

"I like to be defended." Severus shot back, more venom in his voice than he had intended. Minerva watched him carefully for a moment, detecting more than his usual grumpiness behind his words, but offered no comment.

He had lost his appetite and pushed his plate away. "Where is the Headmaster?"

"Away on private business." Minerva answered, still scrutinising him. "He said to me he does not expect to be back until tomorrow now."

Severus stood, something uncomfortable twisting in his stomach as he tucked his chair back under the table and headed for his classrooms.

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><p>A quiet period in between two classes found Severus in the staffroom, contemplating a half-empty goblet of pumpkin juice in silence. He had been alone for twenty minutes, until the Head of Gryffindor arrived, closed the door and announced his name in a loud voice. He glanced toward her, "Did Pomona send you?"<p>

She looked at him. "She did mention that you looked rather melancholy. I thought that perhaps I should visit you."

Severus did not raise his head, "This is a staffroom, you can come and go as you please."

"Indeed. That also means I can sit wherever I wish, too." Minerva sat opposite him and examined the book he had abandoned. "Although I should not show too much interest in my generally private Slytherin counterpart, my extraordinary senses are suggesting that there is something the matter."

Severus half smiled, "Would those be your feline senses?"

"We are incredibly perceptive animals, Severus, as you know well. So - are you going to enlighten me, or do I have to guess?" She leaned back in her chair, watching him. Severus exhaled slowly before raising his gaze to hers. "It's not - it's not something I can talk about."

"Ah. So it is confidential, then?" Minerva folded her hands into her lap, "That means I can guess, and then you can point me in the right direction. Clearly it concerns you and Albus, because you did not know he was away from the school today. Which suggests to me that you have argued, or at least disagreed over something."

Severus nodded once, "That is all I can say."

Her expression was sympathetic, "Seems to be all you two do at the moment - argue. We are not used to it. Out of all of us, you are the closest to Albus."

She did not know how right she was. Severus desperately wanted to tell her what was splitting him and Albus, tearing them apart at the very core of their relationship, but he could not bear it. She would not believe him, for a start. How could he tell her that Albus had forced himself into Severus' mind and now knew secrets about Severus that he had never told anyone? He simply glanced away and shook his head, "We are having differences of opinion."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better - Albus feels just as bad when you have argued. I spoke to him last night - he would not tell me what the precise argument was, but he was rather despondent." Minerva reached across the gap between them and rested her hand on Severus', gently, "I know you are at your edge, Severus. Just hold on. Find a way to hold on."

He could feel a lump forming in the back of his throat and desperately tried to fight it. "Minerva, I…"

The staffroom door opened and Severus withdrew, folding his arms and looking away. Minerva glanced toward their intruder with more than a little annoyance, but it faded when she saw Poppy, "Poppy - did you complete your inventory?"

"Yes - I came to find Severus - I was wondering if anyone would have any reason to examine your medical record?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "No. Why?"

"Well - it's your record that has been moved. It has not been stolen or taken, but it was out of place with the others. The thing I do not understand is that it was your medical record when you were a student - we started a new one when you came to teach here - I do not understand why anyone would be interested in the cuts and bruises that you attained as a child."

Severus tensed. "What other information does it store?"

"Only what we would have needed to know - parents' address, who to contact in an emergency, any conditions…Severus…?"

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><p>Albus Dumbledore stood outside a small house in an isolated village. He checked the address against that on the parchment, and looked back to the house. He drew his wand and headed for the door of the house, leaving the piece of parchment behind. He raised his knuckles and tapped them against the door, waiting for it to open.<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Bumblebee Blood**

****_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! ~ SS19_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen<strong>

"Tobias Snape?" Albus Dumbledore asked when the door opened. "I'd like to have a talk with you about your son."

Albus was rather pleased with himself. So far, he had not blasted the door down, nor set the building on fire, not killed Tobias Snape where he stood. This was an achievement, he thought. The last six hours had been an enlightenment for him. And not of the positive type that Muggles spoke about. No. This was more of an epiphany. He had taken a copy of the child Severus' medical record from the Hospital Wing and stolen away to his cottage by the coast to read it. What he had found had worried and frightened and unsettled him. Poppy's medical records had listed several bruises and cuts that were unexplained - always when he came back from the holidays - Albus remembered, now, the reluctance the boy had always shown to go home - what had Albus done, sending him back here? Every time Severus had faced him and asked him to stay at Hogwarts and Albus had only seen defiance…had that defiance actually been fear? He had sat in his cottage and looked back at himself - not as Severus' father, because he could not have possibly known then - but as a simple Headmaster. How had he not seen the fear in those dark eyes? Why had he been so determined to see Severus as the bad child, as a memory - the memory of Tom Riddle - when in truth, he had been nothing more than a child.

The idea that it was him alone that had driven Severus to Lord Voldemort was too much for him to bear, and he shut it from his mind.

But now, he had Tobias Snape. And he would have an explanation from him, whether it was willingly or not. He did not condone violence of any kind, at any time, for any reason - but he would use it now. He would find out exactly what had possessed a man - and a simplistic, ordinary man at that - to feel and think he had the right to hurt a child. To raise his hand to a boy. To make Severus' life a living hell.

And he hoped to find out that information before Severus arrived, too.

"I have no son." Tobias hissed.

Albus raised an eyebrow, resting his hand on the side of the door. "Really? Well, who is Severus then? A pet?"

Tobias tried to slam the door hard, hoping to trap Albus' fingers. Albus was smarter than that. He drew his wand and pushed it under Tobias' chin. "I wouldn't, if I were you. Now. Invite me in to your house, like a good house keeper, and ask me to sit down. Unless you wish me to cut out your tongue." The words were acid in his mouth and he wished he did not have to be this way - but at the same time, this was something new for him. His brain, mocking and arrogant, had chosen to torment him with the clever images it had concocted of a young Severus. A child with dark hair and dark eyes and pale skin, trying to escape - and Albus should have known. _He should have known_. He should have known that his child was suffering. But no, he had lived in his own perfect reality, thinking his child was being taken care of by a loving family, winning wars and glory and hardly thinking about the child he had left behind.

Abandoned.

Tobias seemed to take his threat seriously. He was a large man, both length and width, and did not seem to take much care of himself. His eyes were brown - the same as Severus' now - but they held none of the depth of Severus'. They were cold and hard and unfriendly. He glared at Dumbledore but let him in. "What about him?"

"It has come to my attention that he has not had a particularly happy childhood." Albus waited until Tobias had sat down, watching how the man hesitated. "I was hoping you could explain to me."

"Explain what?" Tobias answered, still watching Albus' wand.

"Why he was covered in cuts and bruises every time he went back to school?" Albus continued pleasantly, as if discussing the weather and not the history of his son.

"Are you from that…place?" Tobias suddenly asked. His demeanour changed, it became almost threatening - as if a Muggle could threaten Albus Dumbledore - "That madhouse?"

"I do not refer to my school as a madhouse, Mr Snape." Albus continued calmly, placing his wand in his lap. "We do not have 'madhouses' in the Wizarding World. We support those who need our help."

Tobias simply repeated the term 'madhouse', but seemed suitably sedated by Albus' wand. Which made Albus wonder if he had had an incident with such a weapon in the past. Most likely Severus, who was particularly frightening when angered and pointing a wand. "I would appreciate an answer to my question."

Tobias glared sullenly at him. Albus almost recognised the expression, and that infuriated him - he stood, suddenly tall in the small living room. "Did it give you pleasure to abuse a child, Tobias?"

Tobias looked up at him, and refused to answer.

"Did it make you feel powerful, to make a child cry? Did it help to make up for other inadequacies, Tobias?"

"Not sure why this is important now…" Tobias interrupted, "I have not seen him for years."

"You did not deserve such a child, Tobias! You never deserved such a person as Severus is." Albus felt the sudden, almost primal need to defend Severus. To defend that was his child, to tell everyone how brave and selfless he was - starting with this man who had seen every one of Severus' childhood moments - the moments that Albus had missed - "He is far better than you."

Tobias shrugged. "I never wanted him anyway."

Albus froze. Tobias had never _wanted_ Severus? He moved before he had fully formulated the action, grabbing Tobias by his shirt and pressing his wand under his chin, hissing, "He's not even yours."

"Take your hands…off my father." A voice from behind him. Severus had clearly found the misplaced file and understood Albus' intentions. But when Albus turned, Severus' wand was not pointed at the man who had abused him for most of his childhood. It was pointed at Albus, and that hand did not shake, and that glare did not waver. Albus dropped Tobias immediately, and stepped back - only to see Severus cross to stand in front of the Muggle. "If you don't mind." His voice was hard and cold - and Albus was suddenly confused. "Severus, you have no ties to him."

"Why? Because you say so?" Severus demanded in response, one eyebrow sharply raised. "Am I not allowed to make that decision for myself?"

"You said you do not regard him as a father!" Albus replied, frustrated and impatient with Severus and disappointed in himself for his loss of control.

"And that gives you the right to threaten him, Headmaster? That gives you the right to storm into his home and push a wand under his chin?"

"I…" Albus shook his head, "I don't understand…"

"You never do, Headmaster. You never understand because you do not know what it is like to have a real family!"

Albus flinched. Severus seemed to realise he had overstepped the line, but neither did he retract his statement. Albus glanced away, but Severus was not finished. "I don't need this, Headmaster. I don't want you trying to make amends for whatever happened in my past."

"But he - he hurt you - "

"So? He still brought home the money to clothe me and feed me and keep a roof over my head. Albus - I have a father. I do not want another one. Do not overstep your mark." He had yet to lower his wand, and his gaze remained firm. Albus took a step back. "Very well, Severus. Allow me to apologise."

Severus glanced to Tobias. "Have you visited mother's grave, yet?"

Tobias looked back at him. "I went yesterday." He paused. "I saw that you had been. You left flowers."

Severus tucked his wand into his pocket. "You should have come to the funeral." His voice was calm and composed, as if he was talking to an acquaintance rather than the man who had raised him. "She would have liked that."

Tobias hesitated. "I was not sure if I was welcome there. I did not think you would want me there."

"You never raised a hand to her." Severus turned away. "Apologise to my father for interrupting him."

Albus felt like refusing. But he held out a hand to Tobias. Tobias took it, but only because Severus stared at him until he did. Severus shook his head exasperatedly and walked toward the door, leaving the two men in the room together. Tobias stared at Albus for a long time. "I knew."

Albus watched him, "Knew what?"

"I knew he wasn't mine. That's why I hurt him. Because he wasn't my son. He was a replacement."

Chilled by the cold emotion behind these words, Albus pulled away. "You disgust me." He followed Severus, who was now half way across the garden. "Severus - wait - please."

Severus whirled, "How DARE you?" He shouted, "How dare you think you had that right! How dare you think you could storm into my life - my very family - and threaten them?" He was angry - angrier than Albus had ever seen him - "What did you think that would accomplish?"

Albus hesitated. "I don't know." And that was genuine. "I really don't know - I wanted an answer, Severus - "

"An answer to what?" Severus answered furiously, "An answer to what?"

"…Why he felt he could hurt you." Albus murmured in response, just loud enough for Severus to hear. "I wanted -" He had wanted to hurt him. He had wanted to destroy him. He had thought that would have - somehow - explained what had happened. It would have made it feel better. Instead, he looked at Severus' eyes and saw disgust and realised he was no different. "Severus, I don't know what I am doing - you have no idea how I feel - right now - please, I cannot stand being so apart from you."

Severus shook his head, tired. "I have a headache. Albus, I'm not interested - I don't want this. I don't want you."

Hurt by these simple words, Albus took a step forward and spoke before he could truly formulate the words, "He didn't want you, Severus!"

Severus looked across at him for the longest of moments, the most suspenseful of seconds. When he spoke again, his three words broke Albus' heart. "Neither did you."


End file.
